Strange Bedfellows
by ErabuHikari
Summary: COMPLETE! After a trading mission gone awry, two of Atlantis’s finest are held captive. Twist. I suck at summaries. WeirShep shipperness, plus a lot of angst and character whumping.
1. Good Morning, Charlie

**Strange Bedfellows**

**Summary:** After a trading mission gone awry, two of Atlantis's finest are held captive. Twist. I suck at summaries. WS shipperness (more tension, really), plus a lot of angst and character whumping.

**Spoilers:** No specifics for now… but just to be safe, everything up until 1x16, "The Brotherhood." If I refer to any specific event in a chapter, I'll put up a spoiler warning before that chapter.

**Disclaimer: **Unfortunately, I do not own Stargate Atlantis, because if I did I would be basking in the fandom glory. This story is not for profit, just for fun. This disclaimer applies to all ensuing chapter of this fic.

**A/N:** This is rated PG-13 for violence and language, though I may have to up the rating to R in at least one of the later chapters. This is my first fanfic (well, first complete one anyway), so be kind! Please review -- good, bad, or just plain sucks… tell me! ;) Enjoy!

**Chapter 1: Good Morning, Charlie**

"All I'm saying, sir, is that Farrah Fawcett was by far the better Angel."

"Ford," replied Major Sheppard, deadpan. "Are you kidding me? Did you even _watch _the show?" John highly doubted that he had. His second-in-command was, what, all of twenty-six years old? He was probably still in diapers when _Charlie's Angels _was on the air.

"Sure I did," Lt. Aiden Ford answered his CO, his voice cracking. _It's a good thing I'm not in those negotiations, _he thought, _because I couldn't bluff my way out of a paper bag._

"Yeah, okay, Ford. I'll tell you what," began John, clapping his hands on his knees. "You give me three reasons why Farrah Fawcett was a better Angel than Jaclyn Smith… and I'll let you borrow a Puddle Jumper for a week." At this, Ford's eyebrows shot sky high. "_But_," Sheppard continued, "if you can't… you owe me your rations of turkey sandwiches for the next week. Deal?" _Not like Weir would approve of a Puddle Jumper for personal use, anyway. _He checked his watch.

Aiden Ford knew he had no chance in hell of winning this bet. Hell, he didn't even know anything about the show. All he knew was that Farrah Fawcett looked might fine on this poster he had on his bedroom wall when he was a teenager. But he really, really wanted that Puddle Jumper…

Sheppard seemed to be enjoying the young man tangle with his dilemma. He did his best not to laugh as Ford's face contorted as he struggled to make a decision. _God, if he takes any longer, I'll be able to draw social security_. _Or whatever the equivalent is in the Pegasus Galaxy. _"Ford, I know this is a tough decision for you," Sheppard said finally, with an air of sarcasm, "but sometime this year…?"

_Damn him._ Ford decided to take the easy way out. _"_No thanks, sir. I don't think making bets with my CO would reflect well upon myself and upon the character of members of the United States Marine Corps," said Ford, with a smile and _not_ without a touch of smugness.

"Give me a break! Ford, you're so full of shit," was the reply from John. He couldn't count the number of times on Atlantis he and Ford had made bets on one thing or another (not to mention all the pranks they pulled together): how long McKay could go without making a sarcastic remark, when the next time Weir was going to chew out Kavanagh, who Steve would threaten to suck the life out of next, or even who would get shot at the most on a mission. All in good fun, of course. During the months they had spent on Atlantis, the two had become close friends. John thought Aiden was a good kid; he was bright, picked up on things quickly, loyal, and good-natured. He was everything a CO could ask for in a 2IC, even if he was a little green. If anything were to happen to Sheppard, he fully trusted Aiden to take care of his team members.

"McKay, what about you?" asked Ford.

"Hmmmm?" echoed the absent-minded reply from the nearby ruins. Whatever the question was, he didn't really care. Dr. Rodney McKay was deeply absorbed in the translation of ancient ruins they had found shortly after arriving on the planet Klaan. He was so close to fully discovering what the ruins said… something about the Wraith, but what else was new? Nearly every planet they had encountered so far had some sort of ruins detailing how the Wraith were a curse upon their cultures, culling large portions of the native populations every few generations. He was hoping to uncover something more useful, like the location of a ZPM.

"What about you? Who was your favorite Angel?"

McKay put his hand-held computer down and looked up. He couldn't believe this. Here he was, attempting to translate ancient ruins (something he had been working on for _days, _he added silently), and these two numb-nuts he was stuck with were interrogating him with insignificant questions. Not to mention that while Dr. Weir and Teyla were still hammering out the details of the treaty with the Klaans, the end to his torture was nowhere in sight. "Excuse me, not to put a damper on your party over there or anything…"

"Uh oh, here he goes," Sheppard leaned in and whispered to Ford.

"… but I am trying to translate some highly enigmatic text on these ruins here. So while I am glad that you two are having a ball of a time, unless you have something _useful _to contribute, I ask you to please refrain from distracting me with any more of your dumb questions!"

He was met with silence and stares from the faces of two shocked faces. Then, suddenly, the two military men burst out in hysterical laughter.

"Wow, McKay, that was extremely sardonic, even for you," teased Sheppard after he'd caught his breath. "What's the matter; get up on the wrong side of the bed?"

"Very funny, Major." The truth was, he hadn't eaten in a while, and his hypoglycemia was creeping up on him. He was becoming crabby… even more than usual.

Sheppard rummaged through the pockets in his vest until he found what he was looking for. He tossed the object to McKay. McKay clumsily caught the object and glanced at it, then at Sheppard.

"You're welcome," John said with a lopsided grin, and checked his watch again.

"Thanks," was the reply from a surprised McKay. The doctor joined the men over where they were sitting on some nearby rocks. He opened the Powerbar Sheppard had just given him and munched thoughtfully. After a few minutes silence, McKay began, "About my, erm, outburst--"

Major Sheppard held up a hand to silence McKay. "No apologies needed." He couldn't blame him for being testy, and not just because of his hypoglycemia. They had been stuck on this dull planet moseying around these ruins for days while the more diplomatic Teyla and Dr. Weir negotiated a deal for food with the native Klaans. While tedious and mundane, Sheppard knew the mission was necessary. Atlantis was running low on food.

Truth be told, he much preferred these lackluster ruins to the negotiating table. He hated the intricacies of negotiations, all the political bullshit. One party pretends to like the other in order to gain weapons, intel, or in this case food, lies (or at least, half-truths) are exchanged, and supposed 'alliances' are formed. What Sheppard _really _didn't like, though, was Dr. Weir's insistence on coming along on this mission. Ever since Teyla had told the group during the briefing that the Klaans had the potential of becoming useful allies but were known to be stubborn and stingy in the negotiating process, Elizabeth had taken it upon herself to personally deal with the natives. She believed with her poly-sci background, she gave Atlantis the best shot of garnering the much needed food without conceding too much themselves.

_Which is probably true, _thought John_, but it doesn't mean I have to like her being here._ For one thing, Sheppard and his team knew nothing about the planet Klaan or its people. Teyla hadn't even been there, and all they had to go on was the word of several traders they had met on another mission. He didn't want Atlantis's leader walking into a potential ambush. And for another thing, Dr. Weir wasn't even field trained. If something happened to John, Ford, or Teyla, could Elizabeth fend for herself? John didn't doubt her strength and resolve. In fact, he admired her for it. But would that be enough in a tight spot?

The last reason was personal. While he voiced the previous concerns at the briefing to Dr. Weir -- and was denied his request to have her remain at Atlantis -- he could and would never express his last worry to anyone, especially Elizabeth. Over the past few months, he had come to know Dr. Weir pretty well. He liked her, respected her. He enjoyed their late-night conversations over bowls of smuggled ice cream in the mess hall, liked how she balanced her no-nonsense style of command with a kindness and caring. Elizabeth also saw right through his military façade, seemingly down to his soul. She was too valuable to Atlantis, as a leader and as a person, to lose, and if anything happened to her on this mission, he didn't know if he would be able to live with himself.

But here they were nonetheless. And according to Elizabeth's hourly updates via the radios, things were going wonderfully, much to John's relief. Maybe he overreacted. Still, why did his part of the mission have to be so boring?! _Which reminds me…_

"So…?" prompted John.

"So… what?" was the response from McKay.

"Who is your favorite Angel?" asked Ford slowly. Apparently, he hadn't forgotten either.

McKay sighed and watched as Sheppard leaned over to Ford once more and whispered something in his ear. His 2IC merely nodded. "Kate Jackson."

"I knew it!" declared Sheppard triumphantly to Aiden. "See, Rodney? Was that so hard?"

"Kate Jackson?" asked Ford incredulously.

"Of course. She's the brainy one, which automatically makes her more valuable, not to mention more attractive," replied McKay wistfully with a dumb grin on his face. He seemed to be gazing of into space. "She was cute, too."

The grins vanished from the two remaining men. "Oh God, McKay's in love with a fictional television character," said Ford.

_Naw, McKay's alright. He may be a little… quirky at times, but he's a good guy._ Sheppard believed himself to be a good judge of character, and he thought he had McKay pegged from day one. However, the more missions they went on together, the more McKay surprised him. While he initially came off as a pompous, arrogant bastard… _okay, he still is a pompous, arrogant bastard._ But John learned there was a side to McKay he hardly let anyone see, a side that actually cared about his teammates. John was glad the physicist was on his team.

"Okay, boys," Sheppard said, rising and glancing at his watch for the umpteenth time. "What do you say we blow this popsicle stand and check on what the ladies are up to?" It wasn't so much a request as an order of sorts. Elizabeth was late for her hourly check-ins. _Okay, three minutes late. Not a big deal. You're overreacting, John. Again. _Still, he wanted to meet up with the rest of his team and see with his own eyes that nothing was in fact wrong. Plus, he wanted to keep tabs on that Hergon guy.

A bad feeling was beginning to creep up on him…

TBC

* * *

It wasn't that bad, was it? Not much of a cliffhanger, I know… Not much going on, either, but this chapter was necessary to set up the rest of the story. More action in the later chapters, I promise! Please review! 


	2. Gloating and Jealousy

**Strange Bedfellows**

**Chapter 2: Gloating and Jealousy**

Elizabeth Weir was pleased with herself. Not only had she agreed to a deal with the Klaans that would ensure the Atlantis crew food for months, she had also yielded only some superfluous medical supplies to the locals. It was a steal of a deal. She couldn't wait to rub it in to John. _And he didn't even want me on this mission. Ha! Maybe I should forbid him from eating any of the food we just traded for, and then we'll see how he feels, _she thought jokingly to herself.

All in all, it had been a successful past few days on Klaan. The head of the civilization, a tall, well-built man in his mid-forties with a chiseled face named Hergon, proved to be a tough -- but fair -- negotiator, as Teyla had promised. He had insisted that both she and Teyla adhere to the trading customs of the Klaan people, which included an entire day of just introductions. During this time, the Klaan had learned little more than their names and their current situation. They didn't even know she was the leader of their group and had instead assumed she was merely a diplomat. Elizabeth was reluctant to tell them more until she got to know them better. She did learn that the Klaan were a mostly peaceful people, only fighting when attacked by neighboring civilizations. They were simple farmers, not very technologically advanced at all. What truly amazed, though, was the size of the civilization. Hadn't the Wraith been here recently? Rodney had said something about ancient text in the ruins that described many visits from Wraith ships. Surely, then, these people must have found a primitive way of combating the Wraith. Elizabeth made a mental note to ask Hergon about it, but not now… she didn't want to push her luck with him.

She could tell John didn't like him. When they were introduced nearly four days ago, she noticed there was some friction between them. They had shook hands, both men trying to squeeze the other's hand harder. She had had to roll her eyes at that one. _Men. Doesn't matter what galaxy they're from, they're always trying to be macho._ After the two had separated, John had stuck close to Elizabeth, always keeping a watchful eye on Hergon. She had found it amusing, especially now that negotiations were over. Hergon was ever the gentleman the entire time and had never forgotten his role of host.

Dr. Weir spotted Major Sheppard, Lt. Ford, and Dr. McKay approaching her and Teyla. _My chance to gloat… _She just wanted to have a little fun with him, that's all. She noticed his eyes were sweeping the town square in which they were standing, looking for anything suspicious. Ever since they had arrived on the planet, she noticed that he had been acting strange, wary even, but he hadn't said anything.

"How'd it go, ma'am?" Ford was the one to ask.

"Excellent." She couldn't keep a smile from her face. "We traded some medical supplies for enough food to last us through December." She looked at Sheppard's face to gauge his reaction. Nothing. _Damn._

"Hergon proved to be a steadfast leader and trader, but Dr. Weir was able to better him," Teyla added with a smile of her own.

Elizabeth continued. "With Teyla's help, we were able to express a basic knowledge of local customs, which are luckily similar to that of the Athosians. This seemed to impress the Klaan people, and from there…. Major Sheppard? Major Sheppard, are you even listening?"

"Hmmm? What?" _Dammit. _He had been scanning the square again. _I have to stop doing that… everything is fine. See? The trades are over and that means we can all get out of here._ "Sorry, Elizabeth. I was distracted." _What a lame excuse. She's going to think I'm paranoid…. Am I paranoid?_

A smile slowly spread across her features as it dawned on her. "You were looking for Hergon, weren't you?" This earned smiles from the rest of the group as well, and Ford tried unsuccessfully to hide his. The entire team knew about his dislike for the Klaan leader; it was obvious.

"What? No! Of course not. I was just…."

"Looking for Hergon?" Teyla helped out.

"Yes, exactly. I mean no!" John sighed. He was digging himself a hole. "I just don't trust the guy, okay?" He spotted Ford. "What are you smirking at?" he asked defensively, at which Ford immediately wiped the grin from his face.

"Don't trust the guy? John, Teyla and I just spent the past four days brokering a more than fair deal with him. He was pleasant and fair the entire time. How can you not trust him?"

"I don't know, alright? It's just a feeling…." John had learned years ago during his days in flight school in the Air Force to trust his instincts. They can save your ass in a tight spot.

Elizabeth scoffed at him. She couldn't believe what he was hearing. First, he didn't even _want _her on this mission, and now, after she had just pulled off the biggest steal in the history of human kind, instead of congratulating her he was doubting her?

Sheppard pulled her aside, away from the group. He hunched over and whispered, careful to not let any wandering Klaan overhear. "Elizabeth. Listen. There's something not right about this place, not just about Hergon. I don't like it, and I want my team our of here ASAP, so if you've finished with the details--"

"No, we're not finished," replied Elizabeth strongly. "Hergon has invited us to a celebratory feast tonight to conclude the negotiations. So I suggest you get over you childish jealousy of the man and at least _pretend_ to enjoy tonight's festivities," advised Dr. Weir as she looked Sheppard straight in the eye. She may have been a few inches shorter than he, but she refused to be intimidated. She honestly couldn't believe what had just happened. Sheppard was pea-green with envy that someone might possibly be more macho than him, and so he wanted to pull his team out and go sulk.

"Jealousy? Liz, open your eyes! There's something definitely wrong with the guy. I just don't like you being alone." A pause. "With him." Another pause. "Without me there," was the last part, spoken quietly and quickly under his breath. He inwardly cringed. _That didn't come out quite like I planned it. God, this is embarrassing. I feel like a goddamn fool._

Elizabeth crossed her arms in front of her. "I'm sorry, what was that last part? I didn't quite catch it."

John sighed. He guessed that she probably knew exactly what he had just said, but wanted to see him squirm. "I _said, _I don't want you being with Hellion--"

"Hergon," an unamused Elizabeth corrected.

"-- without me being there," finished Sheppard, a little louder this time.

Dr. Weir, arms still crossed and eyes narrowed, adopted a defensive posture. "So that's what this is about? You being jealous that I am showing more attention to him than to you? What are you, a two-year-old?"

"What? No, Liz--"

"Major Sheppard," interrupted Elizabeth, using his formal title to indicated she was the one with the authority. "This is an extremely important trading mission, so unless you want to starve, I suggest you grow up. When we return to Atlantis, I advise that you get you priorities straight. If you do not, meaning if you do not learn to put the priorities of your team and of Atlantis before your own, I will be forced to prohibit you from Gate travel. Is that clear?"

She was met with a frosty stare. When he opened his mouth to say something, she cut him off once more. "Now, if we're quite finished?" Her tone indicated that they were, and she stormed off to rejoin the group.

He stared after her as she continued to walk away. He was too shocked to move. Here he was looking out for the safety of his team, for her own goddamn safety, and she calls him jealous? _Son of a bitch! _he thought. _Fine. We'll get through tonight's little feast, which will go off without a hitch, and which I am going to,_ he decided,_ and then we can all go home. She can call me a paranoid ass for all I care. If it means getting home in one piece, she can call me whatever the hell she wants to_. He tried to convince himself everything was going to be fine, that they would be home in a few hours, but he couldn't shake the occasional chill that ran up his spine.

TBC

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Another set-up chapter. There will be one more, and then the action is going to start. Review please! 


	3. Look Who’s Coming to Dinner

**Strange Bedfellows**

**A/N: **Thanls for all the great reviews, everyone!

amethyst: I'm not sure what you mean... if you're implying that what's going to happen is Sheppard's fault, it's not. He may feel like it is, but rest assured it's not. Hope that helps...?

highonscifi: Thanks! I'll give you credit -- you're a lot more patient than I am!

astrochick: Glad you liked their banter. I just wrote what was in my (messed up)head, lol. I didn't think anyone would find it amusing, and I must admit Charlie's Angels is before my time, so I had to look up some stuff. The work that goes into these fics, I swear... :)

Ashkash: Yeah, I love tension too and I am working on adding more, but eventually at some point it will have to be resolved. :(

LostMyPen: I like your username! Glad you like the interaction; surprisingly, it was the easiest part of the story to write.

Joey's girl forever: Thanks for the review! It keeps my writing!

highonscifi: Thanks, I hope I don't dissapoint, lol (and that goes for everyone else, too).

I own you...: Haha. You're so full of it (I get to say that cuz I know her, lol) :)

**Chapter 3: Look Who's Coming to Dinner**

So far, the evening had gone off without a hitch. Teyla, Elizabeth, Hergon, and several other Klaans were seated around a large wooden, hand crafted table upon which there were wines, fruits, and various meats -- some of which taste like chicken. Elizabeth chuckled to herself. _I guess it is true_, she thought as the popular saying "everything tastes like chicken" popped into her head.

Music from numerous instruments, most resembling guitars, mandolins, and flutes, poured through the dining hall as the group discussed a variety of topics. The two cultures were learning more and more about one another.

"I am curious, Dr. Weir, as to what kind of civilization cannot grow their own food," prompted

Hergon politely.

Elizabeth sipped her wine thoughtfully. She was about to tell them that they lived on a giant, floating city where the only agriculture they had was a few dozen 10,000 year-old dead plants left over from the Ancients, but John's words echoed in her head. _Don't be ridiculous, _she thought._ Besides, I want to find out how the Klaans have managed to avoid being culled by the Wraith for so long…_

"We live in Atlantis," Elizabeth said simply. "It's essentially a floating city."

"We have no land on which to grow our crops," Teyla explained further.

Hergon's eyebrows rose with surprise. "You come from the City of the Ancestors?"

Teyla smiled at his recognition. This would save them from a lot of explanation. "Indeed we do."

Hergon's surprise then quickly turned to confusion. "I do not understand. No one has occupied the City for thousands of years. And it is a great distance from our planet. How did you journey here?"

"We are able to operate some of the Ancients' technology, including the Stargate and ships called Puddle Jumpers, both which we used to travel to your planet Klaan," Elizabeth said, before Teyla could reply to Hergon's implied question of why they now reside in Atlantis. She wanted to be cautious. _Great, I'm starting to think like Major Sheppard…_

As if on cue, the Major entered the room. He was met with the friendly expressions of the Klaans, a confused look from Teyla, and the very unhappy face of Dr. Weir. _Ouch. She's never going to let me hear the end of this._

"Major Sheppard," greeted Hergon warmly. "You must excuse us, we were not expecting you. We will have another place at the table prepared for you"

"No, I'm the one who should apologize for barging in like this," replied John. There was no point in being hostile toward Hergon; despite his suspicions, the Klaans had been nothing but welcoming toward his team. All he had to go on was his gut feeling. _Which, _he reminded himself, _is why I'm here._

"What brings you to our dining hall? Is something wrong?"

_Shit._ John realized he didn't have an excuse for waltzing in unannounced to their ceremonial feast, other than to keep an eye on Hergon. And he certainly wasn't about to tell him that. "I… just… wanted to thank you and your people for your hospitality. We're honored to have such generous new allies." He mentally congratulated himself for coming up with a lie on the spot. _Damn, I'm good. Smooth._ He couldn't help but grin as he took his seat across from Hergon. He also noticed the icy glare Elizabeth was giving him. Daggers_. She's gonna kill me._ Teyla seemed to know what he was doing as well.

After the continued to stare at them, the Major decided to break the ice. "So… what's for dinner? I'm starved!" he asked nonchalantly, putting his hands in his pockets.

Elizabeth put her head in her hands. She suddenly looked like she would rather been anywhere else at the moment, including in a Wraith hive ship.

The evening continued with more talking, most of which John stayed out of. All he was interested in was Hergon. John took note of anything suspicious the man did, which, John found disappointing, was nothing. Nothing at all. He locked eyes with Hergon once, but the leader of the Klaans simply smiled at him and rejoined the conversation.

He glanced at Teyla several times during the dinner. He trusted her more than anyone on his team, including himself, when it came to matters of insight and intuition. She had instincts like those of a cat, so if anyone were to pick up on something unusual, it would be her. But, like everyone else in the room, she was laughing and enjoying herself.

_That's it; I'm officially loony. I've cracked, John thought. No more Gate travel for me._

The dinner went late into the night, so late, in fact, that Hergon insisted the team spend the night in several of the guest suites. Sheppard was about to politely decline his offer but Elizabeth accepted before he could say anything.

As the feast ended, each person went their separate ways: Teyla and the Klaans went to their respective quarters while John wanted to find Rodney and Ford to tell them they were spending the night here. He had let them explore the ruins while he was at the feast. John could only imagine how short Rodney's fuse must be by now; the dinner had taken nearly five hours.

As he walked toward the ruins, he was joined by Elizabeth. She didn't say anything at first but continued to walk with him. He simply glanced at her, waiting for the diatribe he knew was inevitable.

Finally, after a few moments of silence, Elizabeth spoke softly but firmly. "You want to tell me what that was all about, Major?"

_Not really, he thought. He'd screwed up, and he knew it. Instead of answering, he bit his lip and said nothing._

"I'll take that as a 'no'." More silence. Elizabeth stopped John with a touch on his arm.

He turned to face her, once again putting his hands in hid pockets but keeping his eyes to the ground. He _really _wasn't in the mood for this. _Might as well get it over with… _"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" He still couldn't shake that feeling of unease, but it was obvious there was nothing out of the ordinary here.

"John, what you did… storming into a ceremonial feast that you weren't invited to…." She was at a loss for words. "It was wrong. It was rude, it was disrespectful, and it was embarrassing to both Teyla and I. You were lucky the Klaans weren't affronted by your actions. They could have retracted their offer and you could have cost us the entire mission."

"Yes, ma'am," was the soft, curt reply. There was no point in arguing.

Elizabeth was taken aback. She was surprised -- hurt even. John had never called her "ma'am" before. He was never a fan of formalities or rules. They had gotten to know each other pretty well since they had arrived at Atlantis, and she had liked his maverick personality. Elizabeth always felt she could confide in John, about mission-related topics and personal things as well. She had liked to think they had become close friends. Maybe she had been wrong. _Or maybe I'm being too hard on him… _Nevertheless, what had happened was unacceptable, and as leader of Atlantis, she would be forced to take action.

"John… when we return tomorrow, I'm restricting you from participating in any off-world activities for two months."

Sheppard was stunned. _Two months? A little hefty…. _Plus, John wouldn't even be allowed to fly the Puddle Jumpers to the mainland. _No flying.… _John didn't know if he could live with that, but he supposed he deserved it. All he had wanted to do was make sure Elizabeth had been safe, but instead he had humiliated her -- not to mention the rest of his team. He was sorry for that, but there was nothing he could do about it now. "Yes, ma'am," was the reply again.

Elizabeth looked into his eyes and saw regret and shame. She felt awful for reprimanding him like this. As soon as she told him he would not be making any trips through the Stargate anytime soon, she had realized she had hurt him and had immediately regretted it. But she had no choice. They stood there for a few moments more in silence. When he looked at her, she looked as if she wanted to say more, but instead, she turned and made her way back to the guest quarters.

John continued in the direction of the ruins. After he rounded up McKay and Ford, he could get a few hours of sleep and then get the hell off this planet.

TBC

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Ok, that was supposed to be the last chapter before the action starts, but when I wrote the next part it was WAY too long, so I had to break it into two chapters. I'll _try_ to post the next two parts together. Review please! 


	4. One for the Road

**Strange Bedfellows**

**Chapter 4: One for the Road**

John's head was pounding. On top of that, he hadn't gotten a wink's sleep that night. Since turning in at 3:00 am, he had tried to fall asleep but had only succeeded in staring at the ceiling, thinking about the past day's events. He had tried to piece together all the clues, but reminded himself there weren't any -- just his gut feeling. _And why the hell is Hergon so damn friendly all the time? With his fake-ass smile…_ thought the Major.

It was now 7:00 am. John sat up in bed and rubbed his throbbing temples. _What in the world was in that drink? _he wondered. The Klaans were known for their stiff drinks. John was betting Teyla, being accustomed to the strong ale of her own people, would be the only one unaffected. _Maybe I have a hangover… _John rose, steadied himself, and mad his way over to a pale of water that was left in his room. He splashed his face with it, hoping it would clear his head and awaken him. He would need to be fully aware if he were to fly the team in the Puddle Jumper back through the Gate later that morning.

It was now 7:30 am, the team's scheduled rendezvous time at the dining hall. John was the first one there, followed by Elizabeth.

She walked in and spotted him sitting at the table, staring absent-mindedly at his clasped hands. As the feeling of guilt once again overwhelmed her, she thought maybe she should leave and return when the others arrived, but she knew it was no use. Despite her silence and his lack of acknowledgement, she knew he had heard her approach.

"Morning," he greeted finally, still looking at his hands.

Elizabeth joined him at the table, offering him a small smile. "Good morning." She took one of the fruits on the table and started nibbling. _This could be awkward. _"Aren't you going to have breakfast?" she asked after the silence became unbearable.

"Already ate," was the reply.

"Oh." _Okay, so he's still mad at me. Not that I blame him…_. More silence. "Listen, John, about last night--"

"So when's our scheduled departure time?" he asked, looking at her for the first time this morning. She looked a little sleepy, but John thought she still looked as beautiful as always.

Elizabeth frowned. She knew he knew damn well when the scheduled departure time was. Hell, he was the team leader! He made it a point to study the mission specs more than anyone else. _If he's trying to make me feel even guiltier, he's doing a damn good job of it. _Elizabeth thought John Sheppard would no longer trust her after this, that their friendship was in jeopardy to say the least. She hoped that wasn't the case.

The next five minutes were spent in silence as Elizabeth finished her fruit. Finally, Teyla hurried in, followed by an extremely groggy Rodney McKay. "I apologize, Dr. Weir, for our tardiness. Dr. McKay was still asleep when I was scheduled to meet him outside our rooms."

Elizabeth simply chuckled. She wasn't upset. In fact, she was glad the pair had walked in when they did. She didn't know if she could take one more minute of silence alone in that room with John. "It's no problem, Teyla."

Rodney slumped down in his seat and put his head on the table.

"Come on Rodney, rise and shine. You have to eat so we can leave. Wouldn't want you to go all hypoglycemic on us now," Major Sheppard advised.

"Uhhnnn" was the reply as Rodney slowly lifted his head and grabbed a fruit.

"That's it, sleepy head," cooed John with an evil grin. Now he was just mocking him.

Rodney glared at John, a look saying, "Shut up or I'll kill you."

Lt. Ford entered the dining hall last of all. "All set, sir. The Puddle Jumper is just where we left it, two clicks south of here. All of our gear is secure and ready to go," he reported to Major Sheppard.

"Very good, Ford. Alright," he announced, standing, "let's take off." He was anxious to leave.

"Oh, and sir?" It was Ford again. "Hergon wants to speak with us before we leave."

_Joy. John sighed. "Fine. Rodney, up. Let's go."_

"Uh…but I want to sleep…" was the worn-out reply.

"You can sleep on the Puddle Jumper. Come on." With that, the group headed out the door to their pile of gear in the main courtyard. John and Ford checked and double-checked their equipment, just to be safe, while Rodney, still half asleep and hunched in the corner, ate the remnants of his breakfast. Elizabeth talked to one of the locals.

Teyla was about to return to the dining hall to grab another fruit for the road when Hergon intercepted her.

"Must you leave, Teyla? We had hoped you and your people would stay with us a while longer."

"Unfortunately, we must," she replied with a smile. "We thank you for the kindness you have shown us, Hergon." Teyla then bowed and touched her forehead to Hergon's, a traditional Athosian farewell custom.

"Very well then. Is there anything you require before you leave?"

"Once again, your generosity amazes me. I shall ask our leader." With that, she turned and made her way over to Elizabeth who was standing with John. "Dr. Weir. Hergon wished to know if there is anything we need before we depart."

John simply gave her a look that said "no, let's just get out of here," but instead she walked over to where Hergon was standing. John put down his gear and followed.

"Hergon, if you don't mind me asking, how is it that your people have avoided being culled by the Wraith for so long?" asked Elizabeth. She had weighed the question heavily in her mind for the past two days, and she needed to know the answer. Food deal or not, this could be the most valuable piece of information they collect on this mission -- or on any past mission for that matter. If there was a weapon that could defeat the Wraith, or at least keep them at bay, she needed to know about it.

The Klaan leader looked puzzled at her question. "Avoided? Dr. Weir, you do not understand. We are protected by the Wraith by our Gods whom we pray to every night. They keep us safe, and there is not a man, woman, or child on this planet who believes otherwise."

"Oh, I see." _So much for the weapon…. It was worth a shot, though._ She noticed John rolled his eyes at Hergon's speech and hoped that Hergon didn't. "Thank you, Hergon, for everything you have done."

"We hope to see you soon, Dr. Weir and Major Sheppard. Safe journeys," said the Chief with a smile and a wave.

John waved back, glad in that they were finally leaving. "Nice meeting you, Hergon. Now if you'll excuse me, we've got a Puddle Jumper to fly."

The team walked through the village's main gate and out onto the dirt road that led toward the Puddle Jumper. They assumed their usual formation with Teyla and Rodney at the point, Sheppard and Elizabeth in the middle, and Ford watching their six. Teyla was the only team member talking, attempting all the while to keep the astrophysicist awake. John walked next to Elizabeth. Ford noticed neither of them said anything to one another, and soon an uncomfortable silence descended upon them. _So what else is new, _thought Sheppard.

He scanned the horizon as they walked, alert for any signs of danger. Just because they were outside the village limits didn't mean they were out of the woods yet. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up -- something was wrong. Teyla sensed it, too; she turned to him and silently questioned as what to do next.

John held up a closed fist to his team, the sign to stop. He cocked his P-90 and brought it to his shoulder. Teyla and Ford followed suit, all three straining to hear any indications of a threat.

"Oh, what now?" McKay whined. "Major, do you honestly think--"

"McKay," John warned in a curt tone. That was all that was needed to quiet the scientist.

The team listened and watched for several more minutes. Nothing. But the hairs on John's neck didn't stand down. Not willing to stand in the open any longer, he ordered his team to move on. They would be at the Puddle Jumper in a few more minutes.

John instructed Elizabeth to walk behind him. Simply because they were on bad terms of late did not mean he was going to give up his self-appointed duty of protecting her. He also ordered his team into a tighter formation. "Here, take this," John said to Elizabeth as he drew his 9mm pistol from his thigh holster.

"What? Major, I most certainly will not!" Elizabeth was a diplomat, not a soldier. Sure, she had taken a self-defense course and a class in firearms the US military had required all civilian Atlantis expedition members to take, but she was not about to arm herself with a weapon.

"Fine," John replied, a little annoyed, shoving his P-90 assault rifle into her hands and taking back the 9mm for himself. "You can have this instead."

She merely stared at the large gun, and then back at John. "Major…"

"It's easy: just point and shoot," was John's advice. He went back to scanning the horizon, as if that was going to close the matter.

Elizabeth stopped dead in her tracks and pulled John to a stop as well. "Major Sheppard. If you honestly think I am going to arm myself with this… this _thing,_ or any other weapon for that matter--"

"Look," John replied, shouting over her. He was really getting sick of her tossing aside all of his precautions. "You can walk back to the Puddle Jumper unarmed if you want, but don't think--"

"Major Sheppard…." This time it was Teyla.

"Just a second, Teyla." He turned back to Elizabeth. "But if you think everything is all hunky-dory, you can think--"

"Hunky-dory? Really? Was that what I was thinking?" continued Elizabeth in a condescending tone. "That's funny, because I thought I was thinking about how big of an ass you made yourself look these past few days." She shoved the P-90 back at him.

Aiden's eyebrows shot up as he tried not to laugh. This was getting good. _Oh, it's _so _on. Hey, at least they're talking to each other. Or rather shouting _over _each other. _He looked over to where Rodney was standing. He seemed fully awake now and his jaw was hanging open.

"Major Sheppard," tried Teyla once again, this time more adamant.

"Hold on a goddamn second, Teyla!" said John. "If I were you, I would be worrying more about how I look," he said to Elizabeth. "In that red shirt you're wearing, you're practically a walking target." He _didn't_ say, however, that she looked great in it. "Now if you'll take the friggin' gun so we can--"

"Major Sheppard! Wraith!" Teyla yelled.

­­TBC

--------------------

Dum, dum, dum. Cue scary music. Ok, I know I said the action would start this chapter, and it was originally laid out that way, but the chapter was too long so I had to break it up into two parts. So I'll post this and the next chapter together.


	5. Choices

**Strange Bedfellows**

**Chapter 5: Choices**

"Major Sheppard! Wraith!" Teyla yelled.

His head snapped instantly skyward, forgetting his verbal sparring with Elizabeth. He spotted two Wraith Darts heading toward the town. It seemed as if they would be culling after all. The two sleek ships were about three clicks away, but they could be heard as they closed the distance quickly. _What the hell…? _John though. The Darts weren't slowing. They were going to overshoot the town and head straight for…

"Aw, crap…" he said aloud. "Everybody down!"

The team began to scatter to the sides of the roads when the two Darts opened fire. Blue energy beams poured out of the spacecraft toward them and erupted into balls of flame as they hit the ground. Two energy bursts erupted in front of them, one exploding on the road and the other taking down a tree and setting it ablaze. The Wraith had cut them off from the Puddle Jumper. They then began to circle around, eager for another pass.

John skidded to a stop right in front of the burning tree. The loose gravel of the road nearly cost him a collision with the large obstacle, but he was able to use his hand to recover from a would-be fatal fall. He backpedaled, grabbing Elizabeth by the arm and taking her with him.

"Fall back!" he yelled to the rest of his team, hoping they would be able to hear them over the whining of the Darts and the explosions. His plan was to retreat to a grove of trees about 100 meters away. Between their position and the tree line, there was no protection save for several large, free standing bushes. It wouldn't be a permanent solution, but it was better than nothing.

"Make for those bushes!" he yelled to Elizabeth. She was right next to him, clinging to his jacket, but he doubted she could her him over the cacophony of noises. So he guided her in the direction of a large shrubbery. He could see Teyla, Ford, and Rodney about twenty meters ahead of them moving in the right direction. Ford was using his P-90 and firing madly at the lead Dart.

As soon as the second Dart was in range, Sheppard unholstered his 9mm and fired at it. _A lot of good it'll do, _he thought. _It's like a BB gun shooting at a freight train. _Nevertheless, he emptied his clip and popped in a fresh one.

"Use your gun!" he shouted as Elizabeth.

"What?" she shouted back. She was a decent lip reader, but the pandemonium around them disrupted her train of thought.

"Fire your weapon! Your P-90!" The Major fired off two more rounds. He hoped she had figured out what he was saying, because he couldn't waste anymore time explaining. He had to work on getting their asses out of there in one piece. Fast.

Elizabeth seemed to get the message, but was unsure of herself. _I've never fired an assault rifle before!_ She looked down at the rifle and back up as the first Dart swung around for its third pass. _Now or never…. _She hoisted the rifle to her shoulder, just as she has seen John do, and was about press the trigger when the second Dart, who had doubled back and was now coming at them from the _opposite _direction, opened fire. They were cut off from the bushes and the tree line. John and Elizabeth were now trapped between two enemy Darts, and they were closing in on them rapidly.

John tackled Elizabeth to the ground and dove on top of her, shielding her from the flying debris. A shot from the second Dart had destroyed the very spot they had been standing in seconds ago. When the two spacecraft had passed them by, he hauled Elizabeth up and began running back with her toward the bushes which the other team members of had now reached. He kept one wary eye on the one Dart he could see and wondered where the other had gone. Suddenly, the Dart he was watching executed a near ninety-degree turn in mid-air and once again headed straight for them. _Damn, those things are agile!_

Ford could do nothing but fire at the Dart with his P-90, spent shells hitting the ground faster than he could count. Teyla was doing the same. Even Rodney was using his sidearm to fire at the craft. For all their effort, however, the Wraith ship continued to speed toward his CO and Atlantis's leader.

John yanked back on Elizabeth and began heading in the direction from which the came, re-holstering his pistol as he ran. Unfortunately, there was no cover that would provide refuge from the Wraith fire. On top of that, there was a giant flaming tree blocking their retreat -- a dead end. John didn't care. All he knew was that it was _away _from the oncoming Dart, and that was good enough for him.

Suddenly, the second Dart, the one that had seemingly disappeared, reappeared. It dove down from behind the low cloud cover and was headed at them. Once again, they found themselves between the two approaching ships.

Elizabeth spotted a nearby ditch. Not much cover at all, but it would have to do. "John! Over th--"

The second Dart opened fire. One well-placed shot collided with the ground not a half a meter in front of the retreating pair. The explosion flung the two through the air in different directions. John landed ten meters away, hitting a boulder and losing consciousness. Elizabeth was thrown a similar distance toward the flaming tree, losing her P-90 in the process. She hit the ground hard and the wind was knocked out of her. She, too, lost consciousness as earth and debris from the blast rained down upon her.

Rodney had seen the entire thing. While Ford and Teyla had been firing at the Darts, he had paused to reload his 9mm. He had seen the energy burst that had flung his friends through the air. Now there was no sight of either of them. McKay quickly unhooked his radio from his shoulder. "Major Sheppard, do you copy?"

No answer.

He tried again. "Major, do you read?" Rodney was getting nervous. He had never done well in pressure situations, but at least he had always _done _something. Sitting here, doing nothing but waiting was much worse. He tried Dr. Weir. "Elizabeth, are you there?"

Again, no answer.

John once again felt the pounding in his head from earlier that morning, only this time it was excruciating. It felt like it was going to explode. _Where the hell am I, anyway? _he wondered. All he could see was black. _Try opening your eyes, you jackass. God, I'm such an idiot._ He did so, only to be blinded by the sunlight. As his surroundings slowly began to come into focus, he found himself lying behind a boulder. He touched the back of his head and brought his hand in front of his face. Blood. _Okay, not good. _The events of the past few minutes came rushing back at him, hitting him like a ton of bricks. The road, the Darts, the burning tree, Elizabeth…. _Elizabeth. Shit, where is she?_

He sat up slowly, his head spinning. He heard a voice in his head… no, not in his head, on his radio. It was calling his name.

"John? Can you hear me? Jesus Christ, John, answer me!" It sounded exasperated, panicky. _Rodney, _Sheppard thought.

"Yeah, yeah, don't get your panties in a bunch. I'm right here, behind the boulder," he replied. "Any sign of Elizabeth?" he asked, peering over the boulder himself. There was a large crater where he last remembered standing, a few uprooted plants, some spot fires, but no Elizabeth. And the Darts had joined up with one another again; they were two clicks due east traveling at a moderate speed and circling around again.

"No, sir." It was Ford. "Sir, if you can move, you might want to try to make you way over to us. The Wraith are a good enough distance way -- you should be able to make it."

John looked back to where Teyla, Rodney, and Aiden were hiding. It was a clean path to them. The bush was large enough to fit one more person, two even, underneath it, but it was thin. The leaves were falling off; one could practically see right through it. _How could the Wraith not see them? _he wondered.

A moan to his left caught his attention. He spied a mound of rubble on the opposite end of the crater shifting slightly. _Please let that be Elizabeth. _"Elizabeth, do you copy?" he asked over his radio. No reply. Glancing skyward, he saw the two ships now nearly one kilometer away from his current position. _This is going to be close…. _He pursed his lips in determination and radioed in his instructions.

"Ford, Teyla, and Rodney, on my mark, fire everything you've got at the Darts. I'm heading to the opposite side of the crater; I'll need over fire," John ordered.

"Sir, you should head toward us. Once there, I--"

He had expected a protest from his 2IC, but he wasn't leaving Elizabeth out there. Plus, he didn't want Ford coming out to the crater, as the Lieutenant was about to suggest. He didn't like risking any more of his team in the open road than he had to. John sighed. There wasn't any time to explain all this, so he settled on the short version. "Negative, Ford. I'm closer. Now on my mark: three, two, one, mark!"

In perfect unison, the three other team members jumped out from the bush and fired for all they were worth at the approaching Darts. Simultaneously, John used every ounce of strength he had to leap from behind the boulder and run toward the crater. He dashed frantically down the road, once again keeping one eye on the Darts. He was surprised that they weren't even returning fire. In fact, they didn't seem interested at all in the three combatants firing at them.

The two Wraith ships were now within 400 meters of John. Suddenly, he saw two white beams of light pour down from their bellies, one from each ship. _Shit! _he thought. _Shit shit shit. _They were planning on capturing him!

This renewed Ford, Teyla, and McKay's determination. Each fired harder at the ships, hoping they could cause at least some damage. Their wish was granted: one of the lead Dart's wings caught fire and it plummeted to the ground, erupting into a ball of flame several away from Sheppard. The man didn't seem to notice. He focused only on the crater ahead and the white beam of light from the second Dart that was hot on his heels. Sheppard increased his stride, hit the edge of the depression, and leapt into the air just as the beam crossed the spot where he was moments ago. John covered the distance, almost ten feet, in mere seconds. He landed awkwardly on his feet and rolled to the ground.

He wanted nothing more than to stop and catch his breath, but as he rose to his knees, he spotted the remaining Wraith Dart begin its pattern once more. _45 seconds, tops, _he mentally calculated.

"You still with us, sir?" asked Ford over the radio. The three were now back underneath the bush and could no longer see Sheppard.

"10-4. I'm going to need some more cover fire in about thirty seconds," he told Ford as he got to his feet and ran to the mound if rubble.

"Copy that, sir."

As John arrived at the base of the heap of debris, he heard coughing. _Thank God, she's still breathing. _"Liz? Liz, where are you?"

In response, Elizabeth feebly thrust her hand out from under the dirt. John immediately rushed over and began digging her out. He looked at the Dart. _Thirty seconds…_

Elizabeth was under feet of debris. John was able to clear a space over her face so she could breathe easier. "Hey, you alright?" he asked. A cough and a nod was her answer. "Listen, I'm going to need you to help me get you out. We've got…." He looked at the sky. "…twenty seconds before one of those Darts is on top of us. Think you're up to it?" He really didn't care what her answer was. He was determined to get her out with or without her help, though her preferred with. It would make his life a lot easier.

She nodded anyway and the two began digging furiously. She could do nothing, however, until he had gotten her arms free. While she was waiting, she saw the Dart over John's shoulder and saw it lower its white beam.

"John?" she asked nervously, her jaw dropping.

"I know, I know!" _God_damn _it! Why can't this go any faster? _He was getting frustrated; until Elizabeth could help dig it would be difficult and arduous. They didn't have that kinds of time.

Ten seconds.

Her arms were free. Now the two pushed the remaining dirt away from her torso. All that remained was her legs…

Five seconds.

"Come on, Liz, push!" he urged. The Dart was practically on top of them. The beam was heading straight for the mound.

"I'm trying!" With one final kick from Elizabeth and a pull from John, she was loose. He pulled her so hard they fell into the crater as the beam sailed overhead.

They fell about six feet and both the ground hard, Elizabeth landing on top of John. Neither moved for several seconds as the each caught their breath.

"Are you okay?" he asked gently, lifting her chin slightly to study her.

She nodded. "Thanks." She was too stunned to say more.

He flashed one of his trademark boyish grins. "No problem," he said casually, as if it were just a regular day for him.

"Major Sheppard, if you can hear me, the remaining bandit is double backing again and is headed your way! And it's moving pretty fast. Sir, you need to move it now, sir!" warned Ford.

The two got to their feet and hoisted themselves over the edge of the crater. After John had helped Elizabeth up, they began to run toward Ford and the others. _We're going to make it… _Suddenly, a yelp from Elizabeth stopped them both.

"What? What is it?"

"My knee… I think I twisted it….in the explosion…" she replied. Her face was full of pain and her eyes were moist.

John looked at her silently and then looked up at the Dart. It was all happening in slow motion, like some horrible, low-budget action movie. It was ten seconds away and closing fast. There was no where else to go except to Ford. He could make it if he left now, but with her slowing them down, they would never reach the bush in time.

"Sir, you need to move now!" screamed Ford over the radio. He and the rest of the team were once again laying down cover fire.

John ignored the Lieutenant and locked eyes with Elizabeth. He couldn't believe this was happening. Her eyes, full of tears of pain, silently pleaded with him to leave her. "Please," she whispered.

He looked back at Teyla, Ford, and McKay, each valiantly firing at the lone Dart. His friends, fighting against the odds until the end. He smiled sadly as he realized it would probably be the last time he saw them.

He turned back to Elizabeth, his decision made. "I'm sorry," he whispered -- sorry for so many things; sorry for getting her into this mess, sorry for not being able to get her out if it, sorry he couldn't follow her order to leave her. Smiling at her, as if to tell her everything would be alright, he breathed deep, shut his eyes, and waited for the beam to swallow them.

A tear ran down her cheek as she realized John's choice. She wanted so badly for him to go, but was comforted that he was going to stay with her. She, too, closed her eyes and waited.

"No, sir, move!" shouted Ford, realizing what he was doing. "Major, get the hell--" He didn't finish his sentence, because at that moment, the Dart's white beam engulfed his best friend. His CO and Atlantis's leader were gone.

TBC

* * *

Hot damn, that was a long chapter! It took me forever to write! I like it though, if I do say so myself.:) I apologize for the melodrama. I was in a sappy mood. Btw, has anyone seen "Letters from Pegasus" yet? Great ep! Isn't Rodney the greatest? LOL. Please review! 


	6. Culpability

**Strange Bedfellows**

**Spoilers: **There is a spoiler in this chapter for the episode "The Defiant One." If you haven't seen it (good ep!), and don't want to be spoiled, I suggest you skip the fourth paragraph. All you will miss in that paragraph is Rodney is sad, lol.

Before you read this chapter, know that it is a transition chapter. Nothing much happens (sorry!), but I needed to put it in there. The next 2chaptersare good,I promise! And I realized I didn't respond to your comments last time because I'm a dork, so here goes:

mtee1958: Glad you like it. Whumping? Me?? Yes, I LOVE Sheppard, he's so fun to write, and yes, there will be lots of whumping later on. ;)

Sabrina: That's so nice! It's so different writing for fun like this as opposed to writing because you required to in class or something.

Ashkash: Thanks a lot. It takes me FOREVER to write these chapters. The last one I wrote (chapter 8) took me like six hours.Eek!

df: Thanks! There will be plenty more.

Joey's girl: I love writing the sad stuff, so look for more later on.

highonscifi: Sorry about the evil cliffie, I can't help it! There's some more in later chapters, so consider yourself warned! I try to update the following day, but it takes me forever to write the next chapter. I'm trying to stick to posting every other day, but my life is crazy, so we'll see... As for taking years from Liz and John.... muahaha. That's all I'm saying. ;)

Moi: That review was...random. My username is 'choose the light' in Japanese. Booya.

Espiritu: Yes, Sheppard knows all!

MN Talbert: Thanks! I need to say that I LOVE your stories.

Mari: Thank you, I'll update ASAP.

**Chapter 6: Culpability**

Rodney stared at the empty sky. The spot fires still burned around them, a reminder of the destruction and madness of only several minutes ago but what already seemed like an eternity past. It reeked of smoke and fuel, and the only sound that could be heard was the crackling of the leaves of the smoldering foliage.

For the past several minutes, no one had dared to say anything to one another. Teyla, Rodney, and Aiden had simply followed the Wraith Dart with their eyes until it could be seen no more. It was over; they had been lost. Major John Sheppard and Dr. Elizabeth Weir were now at the mercy of the Wraith.

The three stood silent until suddenly Lt. Ford lashed out with his foot, pouring all his hate and rage into a stray piece of debris, which he proceeded to effectively relocate a dozen feet or so. He then picked up a fallen tree branch, no doubt knocked down by one of the Wraith energy blats. In fact, the end of it was still glowing from the heat, but the Lieutenant didn't seem to notice or care. He swung the makeshift weapon at anything he could find, destroying several saplings in the process. Aiden bellowed in anger; anger not only at the Wraith but at himself as well.

Dr. McKay and Teyla watched, content to let the man harmlessly channel his feelings into a meaningless piece of wood. They both felt the same way. Rodney shifted his gaze to the ground, turning away so that his teammates would not see his pain. Sure, he had dealt with loss before, especially since coming to Atlantis. He had dealt with the death of Dr. Gaul, which was tough enough, plus the deaths of several members of the expedition team, including some of the scientists in his department… but this… this was different. These were his close friends, part of his sort of surrogate family. _Friends…_ he thought. He didn't realize until now -- until they were gone, -- that he had real friends. Most of the people on Atlantis tolerated him at best, and the ones who _seemed_ pleasant to him on the outside he knew mocked and scoffed at him behind his back. But John and Elizabeth, they were true friends. They actually listened to him, unlike most, and put up with his dumb shenanigans. They always asked for his input (_even if they weren't sharp enough to fully comprehend my talent, _he added silently, and then immediately chastised himself for thinking like that), and he rather enjoyed their company. They had actually _cared, _and for the first time in his life, he had felt wanted.

Teyla remained still, her head bowed, as Lt. Ford continued his assault on the treacherous saplings. This had gone on for far too long; if there was any chance of finding the Major and Elizabeth, they would have to move soon.

"Lt. Ford," she said quietly.

He chose to ignore her, opting to instead attack a downed tree.

"Lt. Ford, I know you are upset. We all are. But if there is any hope at all left of saving Major Sheppard and Dr. Weir, we must act now. I am afraid destroying logs and tree stumps will not help the situation," she added.

Rodney looked up sharply at her suggestion. "Are you nuts? Didn't you just see what happened, because I did! The Wraith came and took the Major and Elizabeth to God-knows-where and are going to _kill _them, and do God-knows what else to them. We can't help them," he said disconsolately.

"While there is still time, there is still hope," she maintained.

"Still time? We don't know if they're even still alive! The Wraith could have sucked them dry by now for all we know!" He was becoming panicky again. He couldn't think.

"Dr. McKay," Teyla began, her volume escalating with her increasing annoyance with her teammates. Could not they see? "They could also still be alive, but the longer we remain here doing nothing, the less likely that is to be true."

"Look, I want to help them as much as you do, but--"

"Lt. Ford," Teyla pleaded, cutting Rodney off. She was getting nowhere with him and they needed to move. Now. She directed her attention to Aiden, who had calmed down and was now sitting atop the stump he had so recently assaulted. "Lieutenant, please. Our friends need our help."

Ford looked dejected, defeated. Teyla imagined he would be baring the brunt of the guilt, feeling the most responsible because he was the 2IC. She supposed that he felt like he had failed his CO. Aiden sat with his head in his hands. When he looked up at her, his eyes said it all.

"It was not you fault, Lt. Ford. It was Major Sheppard's decision. You could do nothing to stop him--"

"No, you're wrong!" he cried heatedly. "_I _should have been the one to get Dr. Weir. I should have never let my CO risk his life out in the open."

There was a pause, a moment of silence.

"Ford, you know Sheppard would have never allowed something like that." This time, it was Rodney. Teyla glanced at him, surprised. Maybe she had won him over, after all.

She spoke. "Lieutenant, none of this is your fault. It was not preventable."

"Yeah? Tell that to the Major and Dr. Weir," he whispered.

Teyla sighed. This was going to be difficult to get over. She had seen this behavior before in her own people after Wraith cullings. Oftentimes, when a family member was lost, another would blame himself for not doing enough to save him. She had known it well; she went through it herself as a child when her father was taken by the Wraith. But she had also seen something else in Ford, perhaps the same something Sheppard had seen. The Lieutenant's actions today exemplified courage under fire, despite what Ford may say, and she knew that the young man's CO would be proud.

"If I had just had better aim," he continued, "if I had been looking skyward before it happened, if I had been the one to go after Dr. Weir--"

"Then we would be in the same situation as we are now, only the Major's and your roles would be reversed and we would be no closer to a solution," said Teyla with an air of finality. "Do you not think we all share some guilt in this? That I do not feel responsible as well?"

Ford looked up at her, listening.

"I wonder if I had sensed the Wraith coming as I usually do, would we be mourning the loss of two dear friends?"

"And if I had woken up sooner, like I was supposed to, would we have already been home when the Wraith attack took place…." realized Rodney, his mind wandering. _I _am _partly responsible for this. _But he was shocked to find that he did not want to run, as he had in the past from all his other problems. No, this time, he wanted to find a solution. He owed them that much.

"Ford, off your ass and let's go," he said firmly.

Teyla's eyebrows shot up, as did those of Ford. They had never seen McKay like this. Most of the time he was whining about whether or not they could leave a given planet so he could return to Atlantis's mess hall and load up on the strawberry shortcake. But Teyla saw a fierce determination in his eyes, something she had never seen in him before.

McKay grabbed Ford's arm and yanked him to his feet. "Look, there's no time for self-pity. You can mope all you want later, but right now we have to find the Major and Elizabeth. Come on, clock's ticking." And with that, he turned and strode purposefully toward the Jumper, mentally plotting a route through the debris to their craft.

Teyla smiled at his optimism. She turned to Ford, who was still shocked at Rodney's rant, and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. _He will be alright, _she decided. _And though he may have much to learn, he will make a fine leader one day. _She could see he was beginning to let go of the guilt, though it would take some time before he could fully absolve himself from all blame. These wounds would heal.

They walked back to the Puddle Jumper together.

TBC

* * *

Fluff, I know, but I needed to put something from their perspective after the 'abduction', for lack of a better word. I wanted to make a little change to Rodney's personality; I wanted him to be the gung-ho one, after some prodding of course, and Ford to be the reluctant one. Next chapter will focus on John and Liz's situation. Please review, even if this one sucked, lol. 


	7. Theories and Revelations

**Strange Bedfellows**

**A/N: **As promised, a better chapter... :)

Ashkash: Read the spoiler, too. Oh the horror! spoiler ahead But I like the idea of the new character, we'll all have to wait and see how it turns out.

Sabrina: Thankies! I think Teyla's character is underused in the show so I wanted to do something with it here.

Joey's girl:I think you're lying, lol. Thanks. :)

Moi: I wonder why they would think that...? ;)

highonscifi: I already have it all worked out in my head, more or less, including the end. You'll just have to wait and see. I'm evil, what can I say?

dark faith5: They ARE really hard to write! Thanks for the compliment!

**Chapter 7: Theories and Revelations**

The first thing Elizabeth noticed was the smell. Rotting flesh. Thankfully, it was dark so she couldn't see the source of the acrid stench, but she had a pretty good guess that it was human.

She had awoken to pitch black and silence and had immediately panicked. She began to hyperventilate as she scurried like a scared animal into one of the corners of the cell she was in. It was small, she guessed, but she couldn't be sure; she couldn't make out anything past three feet in front of her.

_In through the nose, out through the mouth.... In through the nose, out through the mouth.... _Elizabeth repeated her mantra over and over again in her mind, hoping it would calm her down. It seemed to work and soon her breathing became normalized.

Elizabeth strained her eyes to see past the gloom. After several minutes of adjustment, she could now make out her half of the cell and the immediate are beyond. For the moment, she was alone -- or at least she hoped she was. Who knew when the Wraith would show?

Her thoughts quickly shifted to John. _Where is he? _The last thing she remembered was the Dart's white beam engulfing her and John standing beside her... _Oh no. He was taken, too... which means he's here. Somewhere...._

Since her eyesight was all but useless, so she decided to rely on her hearing. Elizabeth sat still and tried not to breath, listening for any clues as to the whereabouts of John. Nothing, just silence. _Wait¼_she listened harder. _Was that... breathing? _Yes, she definitely heard someone breathing -- slow, heavy breathing -- across the hall. _Another cell maybe?_

"John?" she whispered softly. There was no answer. She guessed he was still unconscious, but what if he was hurt?

"John?" She tried a second time, a little louder. Elizabeth inched up from the back corner of the cell to the front, hoping to catch a glance of the Major. She was barely able to discern a dark form obscured in the shadows several feet across the hall -- the source of the breathing. Her heart nearly stopped when she realized the figure wasn't moving; it had stopped breathing as well.

"John! Come on, answer me John!" She was panicking again, her voice rising an octave or two. Elizabeth took a look around her cell, hoping against hope there was an exit of some sort, or at least a loose branch-thing the Wraith used in place of prison bars. No such luck.

When she returned her gaze to the hallway, the figure was gone. Placing her hands on the branches, she tried to crane her neck and peer down the passageway. Seeing nothing, she started to turn her head the other direction when the individual suddenly and unexpectedly reappeared, nearly an in inch in front of her face. It lunged at her, thrusting its arm between several of the branches.

Elizabeth scrambled backward, more from sheer terror than from quick reflexes, and fell to the floor. She continued to retreat, putting as much distance between herself and her aggressor, until she could go no further. She stared at the attacker in terror and dread.

It was a Wraith.

----------------

John awoke with a start. The first thing he did was sharply suck in a lungful of air, and he immediately wished he hadn't. He sat up quickly. _What is that smell? _he wondered.

As he waited for his head to stop spinning, Major Sheppard began the process of figuring out exactly where he was. All he knew was that he couldn't see a damn thing and it reeked liked hell. His hand instinctively moved to his thigh, and he was more than a little worried to find his 9mm holster empty. He then checked his sheath on his ankle, only to find his knife missing as well, along with his radio and IDC device. _Shit._ He didn't like these circumstances at all: he was alone, unarmed, and had no information on his surroundings. Not the ideal situation to be in.

Years of training kicked in and kept the Major calm. He was known for keeping a cool head in tight spots, but this was pushing it even for him. _Focus... as soon as I figure out where I am, I can figure out a way to get out of here. Okay, the last thing I remember is... Elizabeth. Shit, where is she? _This was the second time in one hour he had woken up, not knowing where neither he nor Elizabeth was. He hoped it wasn't becoming a habit.

He rose to his feet, throwing caution out the window and opting to find a solution to their predicament instead. John tested the strength of the branches to the cell entrance and found them immovable. Pacing around the small perimeter of the chamber soon revealed there were no other exits either.

Sheppard stopped mid-stride when he thought he heard a noise. Breathing, was it? He craned his neck, as if that would help at all, and listened. _Definitely breathing, _he decided. He was about to call out Elizabeth's name, but that familiar shiver down his spine once again made its presence know. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end also.

John darted for the back corner of the cell, hoping it would conceal him somewhat from the impending threat, although why he didn't know. He was being held on a Wraith ship, so they already knew he was here. Major Sheppard now heard approaching footsteps, heavy and striding purposefully -- in his direction. _Damn, I wish I had a weapon...._

And there, several seconds later and standing in front of the cell, was the biggest Wraith John Sheppard had ever seen.

"Aw, crap...."

----------------

Elizabeth was escorted, or rather driven ahead by the Wraith she had encountered in her cell. Instead of draining the life out of her, as she had expected, it had grabbed her and was now taking her to another location. They walked the dark and sinister halls of what she could only assume to be a Hive Ship. Despite the countless number of mission reports she had read involving teams' visits to Hive Ships, she wasn't prepared for the utter... lifelessness of the entire place. It was cold, gloomy, and downright terrifying.

After an innumerable amount of twists and turns, they arrived at their destination: a larger holding cell bounded on three sides by sheer rock walls. The entire third side was constructed of more of those branch-things. This room looked as if it could hold several dozen people. Elizabeth guessed that was in fact its purpose: to contain the Wraith's food until their appetite came calling. She noticed the cell was empty and prayed that didn't mean they were hungry.

Her Wraith shoved her roughly into the cell, causing her to lose her footing and fall face first into the floor. Not uttering one word but simply glaring at her, he turned and walked away. The branches closed behind him, leaving Elizabeth once again alone.

She sat in silence for several minutes until she heard more footsteps. She counted two pair, and noticed one was heavier than the other. They grew louder until the source was standing in front of her. It was John, and he was practically tossed in to cell by the largest Wraith Elizabeth could have imagined. The Wraith then exited and stood guard in the hallway.

"Hey there," he greeted, attempting to sound relaxed -- and not entirely succeeding -- as he got off the ground. He was glad to see Elizabeth in one piece and not... aged.

"Are you alright?" she asked as she approached him, putting a hand on his arm. She thanked her lucky stars he was alive and well... as well as one can be when one is trapped aboard a Wraith ship.

"Oh, you know... just some minor cuts and bruises from back on Klaan. What about you? Did they hurt you?" He asked the last question angrily as the thought of what could have happened entered his mind. John once again lifted her chin gently and examined her.

Despite their dire predicament, she had to hide a smile. "No, I'm fine."

"How's your knee?"

"What?"

"Your knee. How is it?" he asked again.

Through all of the chaos and horror she had completely forgot. Frankly, she was amazed at how he had remembered through everything that had happened. Then she recalled; _my knee, the reason why we're _both _here. _Still, it seemed trivial to be worrying about something like that when they were facing almost certain death, if not something worse. "Oh, it's fine," she replied.

He merely cocked an eyebrow at her in disbelief.

Elizabeth sighed. _Damn him. _"Okay, it hurts like hell. Happy?"

He threw her one of his wry, half smiles. "Then keep off it. Here, sit down," he said, pointing to the back wall.

She reluctantly allowed him to help her over to the wall and lower her down to the cold floor. It wasn't comfortable at all, but it blissfully took the weight off her aching joint. He joined her on the floor soon after inspecting the room.

"I don't suppose you still have your radio on you," he asked, studying the Wraith guard.

"No, unfortunately. They apparently took it from me, along with anything else that could have been of use."

"Yeah, same here."

Silence settled between them, not like the awkward silences of the days past, but a comfortable one, each person understanding and sharing in the other's fear. Elizabeth studied John, who was still watching the mammoth Wraith. He seemed so cool and collected; _how does he do it? _she wondered. But she then saw his eyes, and in them she noticed worry. Elizabeth was glad; he would have to be insane to _not _be worried.

"John?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm… I'm sorry for getting you into this. You shouldn't have stopped and waited for me back there on Klaan. You should have left me," she murmured. It was the truth, and as much as it hurt her to say it, she had to apologize to him. If not for her and her stupid knee, and injury she got in college, at least one of them would still be safe and sound. She felt selfish for being thankful that John was her with her. _What kind of disgusting monster am I for thinking that?_

John didn't say anything. His eyes remained fixed on the Wraith. _What, _Elizabeth thought, _could possibly be so interesting--_

"I'd do it again," he said softly, still not looking at her. Instead his eyes were now on the ground, almost as if he was embarrassed about something.

"What?" she asked in disbelief.

He finally met her gaze. "I said I'd do it again. I wasn't going to leave you, Liz."

Silence was her only answer. Apparently, she had misjudged him. Elizabeth felt mortified that she was actually going to suspend him for doing his job. But she was also touched that someone would care enough about her to put her safety before his. _And how did I repay him? _she thought. _By dragging him into this mess, too. _"Look, John… as much as I am grateful for what you did, for saving my life… just… please don't do it again. I can't have you risking your life for me, because if anything were to happen to you on my account…." She struggled to find the words. "I just don't want that on my conscience, alright?" she finished, her voice level dropping. Now it was her turn to look at the floor.

"I can't promise that," he told her bluntly. Never would he abandon a teammate, and he especially would never have deserted Elizabeth on the road like she was some sort of piece of trash. And if that meant putting his life on the line, so be it. But he did feel guilty once again for not being able to grant Elizabeth her wish, nor would he ever be able to.

She simply stared back at him until she could look at him no longer, a deep sadness and disappointment in her eyes. Again came those mixed feelings of gratitude and betrayal she got from John. She wondered if that was wrong; if she was honestly that callous to mistake his fidelity for betrayal. Elizabeth contemplated whether his loyalty to her and his teammates was the military in him or simply his nature. Never in her life had she met someone with such fierce devotion. She found it odd how the same man could have complete _disloyalty _for the chain of command and military bureaucracy in general.

They sat side by side for the next few hours, pondering what was to be their fate. Brutal images would surface in their minds of Wraith cullings and feedings. Sheppard could not help but think of Colonel Sumner and his excruciating death. He hoped Ford and the others would find them before it came to that.

_Speaking of Ford and the others, _he thought.

"Hey, Elizabeth," he asked, lines of puzzlement creasing his face. "Don't you find it...weird that the Wraith only took _us_?"

Elizabeth really didn't want to talk about this right now. Living through the experience was bad enough, but talking about it, essentially re-living it, was worse. Still, she needed to talk about something, to get her mind off the omnipresent press of mortality. It seemed to her death was practically on their doorstep and the Wraith guard outside their entrance constantly reminded her of that.

"What do you mean?" She answered his question with one of her own.

"Look," he explained. "The Darts must have taken, what: four, maybe five passes?"

She shrugged, not following him.

He continued, his voice escalating and his hands gesticulating dramatically. He was in his element, and he was onto something. "I've been going over it again and again in my head. The first and second time the Darts passed overhead, they fired at the ground and at the nearby trees, but not at us. Now why would they do that?" he prompted.

She shrugged once more, not knowing. _His theory is intriguing, I'll give that much. _"To scare us to death?" _And it worked, too, _she added to herself.

He looked at her patiently, smiling at her quip. Her answer was correct, just not the one he was looking for. "Think tactically."

Tactical operations were not her forté, they were his, but she tried anyway. _Okay, I remember being fired at on their first pass, and on the second one, too. After that John and I hit the deck… while Teyla, Rodney, and Ford were able to run for the bushes… we were separated from the others…. _Her jaw dropped as realization dawned on her.

"Exactly," John said, reading her face. "They wanted to herd us away from the rest of the group. And they did a damn good job of it," he added bitterly. "Now on the third pass, the two Darts closed in from opposite direction, pinning us in the middle. They continued firing to keep us isolated from Ford and the others so that it would be easier for them to capture us. They laid down just enough fire to keep Ford from coming to our aid."

Elizabeth marveled at his attentiveness. She found his theory improbable, however; it was most likely by chance that she and John were the ones taken. It could have just as easily been Teyla or Rodney or Ford. _But still… _She found herself being pulled in as he continued to explain.

"And did you notice they never fired at the others, even as they were laying down cover fire for us? Not once? No, they wanted _us_; the Wraith didn't care about them. I was wondering why the Darts were ignoring the rest of the team. At the time I thought it was because they were concealed well enough under the bush, or that I simply had the worst luck known to mankind, which may be true…"

This drew a small smile from Elizabeth.

"… but the bush was thin. The Wraith without a doubt could see right through it and spot the team, yet they never fired at or attempted to capture them," he concluded, looking for a reaction from Elizabeth as what he told her sunk in.

She realized he was right. She couldn't believe what she had just heard. "So what are you saying?" Elizabeth _thought _she knew what he was implying….

"I'm saying that it was the Wraith's objective to get _us _all along. For some reason, we were flagged," he said in hushed tones.

"But why? Why us? Do you think maybe it's your ATA gene that they detected somehow and that I had simply been too near to you when they beamed you?"

"I don't know… it's possible…" he contemplated, but his tone indicated he doubted the likelihood.

Before they could mull over this new mystery any further, three new Wraith joined the towering guard who had attentively stood watch the entire time. John stood up defensively and watched as the four of them conversed, with occasional glances thrown their way. He strained to hear the conversation, but the voices were too quiet. He relied on his sight instead, gathering any information he could about his captors. _They look like Steve, _he thought. _Hell, they _all _look like Steve. _He wondered jokingly if that made him a racist.

The largest Wraith -- John had officially dubbed him Tiny -- spread the branches of the entranceway apart and stormed into the cell. He sneered coldly as he spied Elizabeth back as far into the corner as she could. John put a protective hand on her shoulder eyed the approaching Wraith, waiting for it to make a move.

He stood several feet in front of them, appraising them. _Or deciding how tasty we look, _Elizabeth thought. "Get up," he said finally.

"Not until you tell us--" John was cut off as the Wraith picked him up and threw him across the cell. He hit the opposite wall hard and fell to the ground.

"Get up and come with us. Now." With that, Tiny walked out of the cell and rejoined his comrades outside the entrance.

As soon as Tiny exited the cell, Elizabeth got up and rushed over to the Major. "Jesus… John, are you okay?" she asked, kneeling over him.

Groaning, he sat up and touched a finger to his lip. It was bloody. But other than that, he was no worse for the wear. "I'm fine. Just got the wind knocked out of me, that's all."

"God, John…."

"No, really, I'm fine." He got to his feet. _It seems Steve's cousins aren't messing around. _"We'd better go with them," he told her. He could see the fear and uncertainty in her eyes.

He smiled and offered her his hand. "Come on, you'll be fine. I promise."

Elizabeth found herself believing him. She took his hand and followed him cautiously out of the cell. Two of the Wraith immediately separated them, one guarding each of them. They pinned their arms tightly behind their backs and pushed Elizabeth and John to wherever they were going. Tiny led the way in front of them while the fourth Wraith followed behind.

Elizabeth was disgusted by the Wraith's touch. It's blue, scaly skin covered her hands. She could feel the mouth-like apparatus on its palm rubbing against her own, and she suddenly felt ill. Concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other was the only way to keep her from becoming sick to her stomach. She glanced over to John who was being escorted next to her. He stared straight ahead, his chin held high. He had once told her "never let the enemy see you sweat." She wished she had the iron will he did.

After several short minutes of walking, they arrived in front of a small room. There was one entrance and no windows. John and Elizabeth were shoved inside and the door was locked behind them.

Elizabeth rubbed her wrists as John circled the room, inspecting it for anything they could use to their advantage. There was a utilitarian, wooden table and two chairs, but nothing more. He frowned in thought. _Since when do Wraith have wooden tables and chairs?_

He didn't have to wait long to find out. The answer to his question strode freely through the door at that moment with a broad smile on his face, a smile John knew all too well. Only this time it was an arrogant smile, not the friendly one he had come to recognize over the past few days. _I always knew there was something up with this bastard. He was _way _too friendly._

"Major Sheppard, Dr. Weir. How good it is to see you again," Hergon greeted callously.

TBC

* * *

Seriously, how many of you didn't see that coming? You knew there was something up with Hergon, but didn't know what, right? Right? Just humor me and say yes. I need to feel like there was an actual twist. It will become clearer in the next chapter. Another long chapter, I know… I was on a roll though! Review please!

Sci-Fi Friday kicks butt!! Isn't this the best lineup ever: Sg-1, Atlantis, and Battlestar Galactica. Plus, they aired 'Behind the Stargate: Secrets Revealed' beforehand, and it was _hilarious_!


	8. Ultimatum

**Strange Bedfellows**

**A/N: **I should have explained this earlier, but I didn't want to give too much away. The title of this fic comes from a saying 'politics make strange bedfellows', or at least something like that, lol. Anyway, it means that politics have a tendancy to create unusual alliances depending on what one party or the other needs. Now everyone nod and say "ahhh, I see now!"

**Warning: **A reminder this fic is rated PG-13 for language. I drop the f-bomb a couple of times in this chapter, so shield your virgin ears…or eyes in this case. ;) Oh, and some of the whumping begins, not too much, but some.

mtee1958: Ok, you get _some _points for realizing he was a baddie. :)

dark faith5: Thanks! I don't think I've ever been an object of addiction before, lol. I guess that's good...? :)

Joey's girl: I thought I gave too much away, phew!

ur-southern-belle: Leave it to John indeed to figure out who the bad guy was and not be able to do anything about it. Poor John...

Mac2: So encouraging! That's why I'm staying up WAY to late to write the next chapter!

highonscifi:Noooo! You figured it out! Whaaa! Kudos though. "What are you, smart?" :) Btw, I liked the part in Behind the Stargate where Rainbow does his little dance in front of Joe. LOL!

Espiritu: You think that cliffie was bad, you should see this one, haha!

MNTalbert: Just make sure you read this chapter slowly. It's got a lot of info. Trust me, my brain blew up after writing it.

**Chapter 8: Ultimatum**

"Major Sheppard, Dr. Weir. How good it is to see you again," Hergon greeted callously. The leader of the Klaans strode purposefully through the entrance, followed by another human and two Wraith.

Elizabeth did not attempt to hide her shock. She had initially thought Hergon was taken prisoner just as they were, but his unmistakable control of the situation quickly changed her mind. He was not a captive, he was a _captor_. Everything about him -- his arrogant posture, his composed gait -- screamed control. It took her several moments to fully process that there were humans standing side by side with Wraith, humans that weren't getting the life sucked out of them. She couldn't fathom how or why this unusual coalition of races existed. 'Unusual' wasn't even the right word. It was _wrong_; two sworn enemies, dating back to the days if the Ancients, were now allies? _How could _anyone _partner with such vile creatures? _she pondered, thinking of the Wraith. But she was now beginning to believe her description of 'vile creatures' applied to Hergon and his people as well.

The mixed party of Wraith and men pushed through the doorway, herding Elizabeth and John to the center of the room. Tiny and the other Wraith took post at the rear of the room while the two Klaans took their places in front. The door shut with a resounding thud, and Major Sheppard and Dr. Weir were now caught between not one but two enemies.

"You know," Hergon began, "when I had told you that I had hoped to see you again soon before you left our village, it was not a lie. Although you must admit now that there was more to that seemingly innocent statement than you realized at time," he said in amusement. Cleary he was enjoying their plight.

John said nothing. He didn't see what was so humorous about the situation.

"Then you departed our town so early that morning that I wasn't so sure we would be meeting again after all. But luckily, for me that is, I had contacted our dear friends the Wraith the previous night, apprising them of my situation. I had guests in my custody from the City of Atlantis, the City of the Ancients. Guests who, according to Dr. Weir, could also operate Atlantis technology. It was too good an opportunity to pass up, you see."

John said nothing. He cocked an eyebrow at Elizabeth. _She told them _whatIt was bad enough she had let them know they were from Atlantis, but he couldn't really blame her for that. He mentally kicked himself, however, for not leaving the night of the dinner as he had intended. If they had, they wouldn't currently be up shit creek without a paddle.

Hergon continued. "The Darts, as you call them, arrived just in time it seems. I told them that at least one of your people could operate the technology and one of you was Atlantis's leader. I simply described the two of you to them, and here we are," he finished, clapping his hands together once and smiling.

John said nothing. _How could he possibly know that one of us has the Ancient gene and that the other is Atlantis's leader? _He flashed back to when they were about to leave the town on the planet Klaan. As he was preparing their gear for departure, he remembered Hergon asking Teyla if there was anything they would need before they left. John, ever alert, had heard her reply, "I shall ask our leader." She had then walked over to Elizabeth, who had been standing next to John. They both had taken up his offer, both going to ask him about the Wraith. _Son of a bitch… _John thought. Hergon, too, had apparently been alert, picking up on every detail of their expedition. From that short, harmless offer he had presented, Hergon had there and then narrowed the list of Atlantis's leader down to two people: John and Elizabeth.

But that didn't answer the question of how he knew which one of the team had the ATA gene. The answer hit John like a ton of bricks. During that same conversation with Hergon, John had told him, "We've got a Puddle Jumper to fly," just before they left. 'We,_' _not 'I.' Again, Hergon had just narrowed the list of who the possible operators of Atlantis technology down to he and Elizabeth. _Unbelievable_. The two most valuable pieces of information had inadvertently slipped out during a meaningless conversation.

"It is quite a shame, however, that we have to meet under these circumstances," Hergon went on.

"And why is that?" John asked, speaking for the first time.

Hergon looked at him and simply said, "Because by the time this is all over, someone in this room will be dead."

"My sympathies to your family," Sheppard said without missing a beat.

The other human quickly walked up to Sheppard and brutally backhanded him across the face. The Major's already busted lip began to bleed more freely. He coolly wiped the blood from his mouth and glowered at his attacker defiantly. The human was in his late twenties it seemed with short flaxen hair and dark brown, almost black eyes. As Elizabeth rested a supportive hand on his back, John realized this was the local she had been talking to just prior to their departure. _Small world, _John thought wryly.

"Quite a sardonic wit we have there, Major," Hergon taunted. He then turned to his underling. "Thank you, Kropol, that will be all for now."

John was tempted to spout a comeback, but the look of concern and warning on Elizabeth's face convinced him otherwise. He decided to remain silent, straightening up and staring straight ahead.

Hergon took note. He thought this soldier's pathetic attempt at bravado was most amusing. "Now that we have all the pleasantries out of the way, what do you say we get onto business?"

Elizabeth snorted at the irony. Less than a week ago, this same man had insisted on adhering to the Klaans' time-consuming trading customs which had cost them several days on the planet. Even their feast had taken five hours. Now when he wanted something he was suddenly the world's most expeditious man. She marveled at the incongruity of it all: this was the polar opposite of the side of Hergon had let them see before. They all had been played. _Almost all of us, _she corrected herself. She looked at John who was still staring calmly ahead. _If I had only listened to him…. Hell, he flat out _told_ me there was something shady about this guy. And I ignored him._

"Tell me something, Hergon," Elizabeth spoke up, her voice steady and even. She hoped it wouldn't betray her true fear. "Why ally yourselves with the Wraith? What's in it for you?" This truly was her field: diplomacy. Despite the current the threat, the political animal in her needed to know.

Hergon smiled as if the answer was obvious. "It is simple, Dr. Weir. The Wraith are the most powerful force in the galaxy. Every world will eventually succumb to their might; they are unstoppable. But we have made a pact with the Wraith, a pact which offers my people exemption from their harvests in return for information that we give them on feeding grounds -- locations, populations and such -- and in your case, on their ancient foe."

Elizabeth couldn't believe what she had just heard. Hergon had just said that they provide the Wraith with information on fellow human villages so the Wraith could feed upon them. She was revolted.

Apparently, John felt the same way. "You sell out your own kind," he stated with an air of disbelief and loathing. "You're one cold son of a bitch, you know that?"

"One does what one must, Major."

"And all that talk about your people praying to your Gods for protection?" Elizabeth asked. "It was all just a front? A lie?"

"Not entirely, no," Hergon answered. "Besides, I prefer the term 'half-truth.' Most of my people do pray to our Gods to keep them safe, only because that is what they believe in. They do not know better. None but a handful of people on our planet know of our alliance with the Wraith."

"You don't think you actually have a genuine alliance here, do you?" John continued. "Let me tell you something about the Wraith: they are heartless, they are unfeeling, and they are unforgiving. And they don't give a _damn _about you or your people, so don't think for one minute that won't suck you dry if they think you look tasty enough." At this, Tiny hissed at him from across the room, but he continued anyway. John was not one to be intimidated, by either species. "What do you think will happen when their food supply runs out? When you stop finding worlds they can cull?"

"Major Sheppard, I can assure you their food supply will not run out anytime in the immediate future. In fact, that is where you come into play." He addressed the both of them now. "You have some information we need, and you will give it to us or you will become the Wraith's next meal." He said it plainly as if it was inevitable.

While Hergon spoke, John studied Kropol, the man who had hit John. He stood smugly behind his superior and eyed Elizabeth from head to toe. He was actually leering at her with a look in his eye John didn't take to kindly to. It disgusted him. Right now John just wanted to slam Kropol up against the wall and wipe that look off his fucking face--

Hergon's words snapped him back to the present. "Now of you don't mind, I would dearly love to know which one of you has the Ancient gene and which one of you is Atlantis's leader."

Elizabeth and John remained silent, eyes fixed on a spot they had each picked on the opposite wall.

Elizabeth figured that there was something more they wanted than just information. Why else would they need the ATA gene? Whatever the case may be, she wasn't about to volunteer that John had it.

John guessed that Hergon and his men must believe the leader of Atlantis knows the most about the city, which was probably the case. They were hungry for intel -- and Atlantis had plenty of that on various subjects -- and the Wraith… well, the Wraith were just hungry. He theorized that as long as they didn't know which one of them was Atlantis's chief executive, they wouldn't get any information from them. _With any luck, they'll think because I'm military that I'm the city's commander and hopefully Elizabeth can be left out of this._

Hergon pursed his lips in annoyance. He didn't like not getting what he wanted, but he could be patient if he had to be. "I will ask you again: who has the gene and who leads Atlantis?"

Again, he was met with silence.

Hergon walked slowly over to Elizabeth, moving at a leisurely pace to heighten her anxiety. "What about you, Dr. Weir? I had thought we had built up quite a trusting relationship over the past few days."

John watched, sickened as Hergon trailed a finger down her cheek. She visibly shivered under his touch but kept a brave face, determined not to let them see her distress. His finger moved slowly down her neck to her shoulder…. Chivalry demanded that John do something before Hergon's finger wandered any further, but before he took more than one step in her direction, Elizabeth fist came flying from behind her back and connected squarely with the Klaan leader's face.

Nothing happened for the next few moments. Hergon fell to the floor from the force of the blow, blood splattering outward from his newly-broken nose. The remaining two Wraith and two humans stared at the downed man in disbelief, John included. He didn't think she had it in her. He admired her composure and outright ballsiness during that unpleasant scene but was jealous _he_ didn't get to hit Hergon. _Remind me to never piss her off again, _John mentally noted. He cocked an eyebrow her way and mouthed "nice shot" to her.

"Thanks," she mouthed back with a smile. It had felt good to floor the bastard. Now everyone was staring at her, shocked and silent. Even the Wraith had looks of confusion on their faces, which was quite comical to Elizabeth. She had never seen such self-important creatures look so unsure.

The next events happened seemingly at once, a stark contrast to the lack of activity of the last few moments. The looks of shock turned to those of fury, most notably on the face of Hergon. He jumped to his feet the same time the Wraith began to hiss. The whole room was in an uproar. It seemed if everyone was closing in on Elizabeth.

John stepped in front of her, using his arm to push her behind him and to the side. He had hoped to deter anyone from attacking her. He technically got his wish when Hergon's hand grabbed hold of _his_ neck and slammed him into the nearby wall. He began to squeeze, cutting of John's air supply, when John kneed him in the groin. Hergon dropped his grip on John's neck and stumbled back in a half-crouched position.

John turned to his right in time to see and avoid Kropol's incoming fist. He ducked under it and crash-tackled Kropol to the floor. He heard something metal hit the floor, and as Kropol rolled to the side, he saw what it was. The man had Sheppard's 9mm tucked in his waistband behind his back. _Son of a bitch! _John thought as he delivered a blow to the Klaan's head to keep him subdued. The Klaan being a simple people, John doubted that Kropol knew how to use his gun. He was probably just keeping it as a souvenir because he thought it looked cool.

John turned his head to see Elizabeth kick a hunched over Hergon in the face. _She was near enough to the door…. _John's plan was to grab his pistol and make for the door with Elizabeth. After that, he had no idea. He supposed they would have to find a hiding spot. John reached for his Beretta, but wasn't able to pick it up before large hands wrapped around him and hoisted him off the floor.

Tiny slammed John down back-first on the table so hard that he was surprised it didn't break under the force of the impact. The wind was knocked out of him and he heard something crack in his side. He grimaced from the pain but refused to give the Wraith the satisfaction of hearing him cry out. Tiny's hand remained firmly on John's chest, pinning him down. The only thing keeping the Wraith from feeding on him -- the only thing keeping John alive -- was his thin, mud-caked, black shirt.

The second Wraith -- John had decided to call him Wraith Number Two -- now had Elizabeth in a firm hold in front of him with her arms pinned behind her back and his hand around her throat. She strained to get free but the grasp on her was too strong.

John struggled, too, also in vain. He pushed with his hands against Tiny's arm but he could not dislodge the Wraith's hand from his chest. He kicked out with his legs, but Tiny was positioned so that he connected with nothing but air.

Hergon rose once again from the spot on the floor where he had landed when Elizabeth had last kicked him. His face was a mess: blood flowed from his lip and nose, which was bent at an unnatural angle, and one eye was beginning to close. Elizabeth had apparently done some real damage. _Serves him right, _John thought. He had just wished he had been able to get his hands on the fucker before the Wraith caught up to him.

Kropol had awoken, too, and had gotten to his feet. He looked dazed and confused but was aware enough to pick up Sheppard's pistol from the floor and tuck it back into his waistband. For a long while, no one spoke or moved. The only sounds were John's heavy breathing and his occasional struggle to get free. Even Elizabeth had given up and now stood scared stiff in Number Two's clutch.

Hergon finally broke the silence. "I will make this very simple for you. Dr. Weir, you will tell me what I wish to know or I will let the Wraith feed upon Major Sheppard."

Elizabeth's eyes widened at Hergon's words. As if to solidify the threat, Kropol walked over to where John was lying on the table. Even against his backlashes, Kropol was able to unzip John's shirt. His upper chest was now completely exposed to the Wraith. If Tiny decided to move his hand up a few inches farther….

Elizabeth stared in horror at the table where John was restrained. He had stopped struggling and was now looking at the ceiling.

"You have ten seconds to decide, Dr. Weir."

_Shit. _Hergon had just issued her an ultimatum, and she didn't know what to do. She, the master thinker, the expert at finding solutions to outwardly unsolvable situations, was torn.

"Eight seconds."

"Liz, don't," John urged calmly but squarely.

"You will not speak, Major Sheppard. Six seconds," Hergon informed her. Once again, he seemed to be enjoying himself immensely.

Elizabeth's heart was split. On one hand, she could spare the lives of countless humans by denying the Klaans the information they sought, but in doing so condemn John to death…

"Four seconds, Dr. Weir."

…or she could tell them she was the leader of Atlantis and John was the one with the gene, thus saving John's life -- at least temporarily. But then the information they would no doubt force from her would kill thousands upon thousands of innocent people…

"Three seconds."

"Liz, I mean it." It was John again.

"Do not speak!" Kropol warned.

Elizabeth's head spun as voices swirled all around her. Which one should she trust?

"Don't tell them anything. Nothing, you hear me?" Major Sheppard asked her.

"Two."

"I said do not speak!" Kropol screamed angrily, pulling John's gun from his waistband and holding it above him menacingly.

"Not a goddamn thing, Elizabeth!" John warned.

"One."

"Liz, don't--" The last thing Major Sheppard remembered was the sight of his own gun being pointed at him beforehis world went black.

TBC

* * *

Oooohhhh, I'm so evil! So what happened? I could _really_ be mean and have you wait two more chapters to find out if I make the next one about Ford, Teyla, and Rodney….hmmmm….. Review if you please! ;)

PS: Has anyone noticed that I really like those '…' things? Ellipses are they called? They're so fun!


	9. Torn

**Strange Bedfellows**

**A/N: **This chapter is kinda shippy. I have to admit I am not a true fan of this ship...I could just as easily go for Sheyla, but this idea was stuck in my head and I needed to get it out! There were a lot of reviews for the last chapter, so thanks! I guesss you guys liked it, lol. Thanks too to all the newbies. ;)

astrochick: Lucky for you -- this chapter is about them. I decided not to be mean!

MN Talbert: You're one to talk! You have a few nailbiters in your stories, too, ya know! :)

onescape: Wow, thats probably the nicest review I've gotten! Thanks so much!

Enorm87: The suspense, I know... but the wait is over!

johnliz4ever: Ok, here it is. LOVE your stories, btw.

sabrina: SoI do get a little ellipse-happy, lol. Thanks for the compliments.

Augusta: I do explain the Klaans' relationship to the Wraith a little later on in more detail. Until then, enjoy!

dark faith5: Mmmm...chocolate....now I'm hungry and I can't write on an empty stomach! So if I don't post the next chapter, it's all your fault! :)

Katko: Was that sarcasm?? :) Continuing...

Jen R: Sending 8 and 9

highonscifi: Yes, drill sergeant! LOL. Thanks for the motivation.

lady rosebit: Will do; you'd be shocked at how many people it was a surpise to. I thought I gave too much away.

elemental-sparky: I am evil, aren't I??? Thanks for the compliments.

Angel of Fire sg-1: LOL!!! That's too funny! Ok, after being chained to the keyboard, here it is.

Chikidee: More is here!

Espiritu: So sorry for the cliffie. (Ok, I'm not, lol) but I can empathize.

EosHeliosSelene: Ok, I didn't make them wait. See, contrary to popular belief, I'm nice!! :)

**Chapter 9: Torn**

The first thing he noticed was his headache. _Damn, I thought I had gotten rid of that thing. _As he lied on the cold stone floor, he realized that he wasn't dead. _Finally, something that went my way today. You can't have headaches when you're dead, right?_

John opened his eyes slowly. He had hoped the ceiling of his room in Atlantis would greet him; he had hoped it was all just one terrifically long nightmare. Hell, he would have even settled for waking up to the steady beeps of the IV machine in the infirmary, but his wish wasn't granted. He was back in the large holding cell on the Wraith Hive Ship. _Fantastic._

John turned his head, spotting Elizabeth sitting on the floor several feet from him. She was looking at him -- or rather looking _through _him at an unseen nothing on the floor and biting her thumb nail. Her foot tapped incessantly on the floor.

Sheppard sat up, wincing as the pain in his side flared. He assumed he had broken a rib when Tiny had slammed him against the table and hoped it didn't puncture a lung. He tested it. Breathing was painless, so long as he didn't breathe deeply, but he found twisting to his left side caused him more than a little discomfort. _It's times like these I really miss Beckett and those needles of his._

"Elizabeth," he tried, hoping to pull her from her trance. It was no use; she was lost deep in her thoughts.

"Liz, hey. You awake?" Nothing. He slid over in front of her and gently grabbed her hand. It seemed to do the trick; she stopped biting her hand and focused on his face. Her bleary eyes became lucid and she sat up straight as if she had just woken.

"Hey, are you okay? You had me worried there for a second," John told her. She had a confused look on her face and he wondered if she had just processed what he said.

"John, you're awake!" she exclaimed. "How long have you been up?"

"I don't know, a few minutes? Why?"

"You were out cold for--" she checked her watch "-- almost four hours now."

He checked his watch, too. It was now 21:00 hours. They had left the city just after 08:00 hours, so John guessed they had been aboard the Hive Ship for… _only thirteen hours? _It had felt like weeks already.

"How's your head?" she asked him, pointing to the top of his skull.

He frowned in thought, trying to remember what had happened. John touched where she had pointed, immediately grimaced, and withdrew his hand. There was blood and a large lump on his head. _Yeah, that would explain the headache. I wouldn't doubt if I have concussion, too._

"What happened?" he asked.

Elizabeth quickly looked to the side, avoiding his questioning gaze. As she turned her head, a dark bruise on her upper cheekbone become visible. John noticed it immediately.

"Oh, God…" he breathed, concern flooding his eyes. He reached up and lightly brushed his thumb across the mark. She didn't pull away, but she deliberately kept her eyes from meeting his. She couldn't face him right now.

He studied her expression. She looked defeated, worn… and there was something else, something John couldn't put his finger on. She seemed… ashamed? He had known Elizabeth for months, had been through thick and thin with her, had seen her make difficult life-and-death decisions, but he had never seen her like this. This was the proudest, most dignified woman he had ever known. To see her broken like this tore at his heart.

"What did they do to you?" He fought to keep the anger from his voice. _What kind of bastard could do something like this? _"Liz, tell me what happened. Please..." he begged, brushing the hair from her face, titling her head up and forcing her to confront him.

She finally met his eyes with her own, and in them he saw tears. John was taken aback. Here was his superior, his friend, the single strongest person he knew… He had never seen her so visibly shaken like this.

"Jesus…" he whispered, pulling her into a tight embrace. She wordlessly put her head on his shoulder and cried, just thankful for his offer to be her support. Elizabeth felt humiliated; she had never let _anyone_ see her emotions before. As leader of Atlantis, she simply could not afford to show weakness, yet here she was crying on the shoulder of her ranking military officer.

"Elizabeth…please, tell me…."

She pulled back from him and offered John a small appreciative smile. He returned it and wiped away her tears from her cheek with his thumb once again.

"Thanks," she managed to murmur between sniffles.

"Sure," he replied with a genuine grin. "Anytime you're stuck on a Wraith Hive Ship and need a shoulder to cry on…."

She laughed at his banter, John was pleased to see. He let her calm and compose herself and remained silent. He didn't want to press her but his eyes continued to inquire.

After several moments, she looked at him and said, "I didn't tell them anything, if that's what you worried about."

"Actually, it's not. Right now, at this very moment, I'm worried about you. So until you convince me that you're okay, all that other stuff can wait."

Elizabeth mused at the way he chose to describe essentially what was the fate of thousands of people, his included, as 'all that other stuff.' It was obvious his current priority was her and everything else was secondary. There was no getting out of this for Elizabeth Weir. "I'm fine. Thank you," she reluctantly conceded with a smile. _Damn him._

"Good," he said, not entirely believing her, but he let it go. "Now tell me, Ms. Weir, where did you learn how to punch like that?" He attempted to lighten the conversation a bit to put her mind at ease.

Elizabeth smiled her first true smile since they had left Klaan. "You forget, Major, that I grew up in a military family. I had three siblings, all older brothers, and needless to say we got into some scuffles when we were children. You know: the typical pick-on-the-little-sister type of thing. I was quite the tomboy, I'll have you know." She eyeballed John for a reaction.

On his face was written mild surprise. He had no idea Elizabeth had been such a scrapper when she was little. It went a long ways to explaining her tenacity today. He allowed her to continue, enjoying hearing about the adventures of mini Elizabeth.

"Anyway," she continued, lost in thought, "it was my brothers who taught me how to fight. They were very protective, and when they found out some of the children at school were picking on me, they decided to teach me a thing or two. We would spend hours at a time in the backyard together, them laughing as I tried to take swings at them."

John watched her as she spoke. She was deep in the moment, eyes glazed over and lips curved upward in happiness. She seemed so content despite what had just happened.

Elizabeth felt his eyes on her and blinked once, bringing her out of her reverie. "Thanks for that, John. I needed it."

"Hey, I just listened," he replied, brushing off her word of appreciation. "But I'm happy to help." He only regretted that her one sanctuary from this place, her thoughts and memories, had been disrupted. He wished he could have given her that feeling of serenity for at least a little while longer.

"Anyhow," she began, eager to put this little moment of frailty behind her. "What were we talking about? Oh, right… what happened…."

"No, Liz," John interjected. As much as he wanted to know what had happened, he didn't want it to be at Elizabeth's expense. It was obvious it had caused her a great deal of pain, and he didn't want her reliving it. "You really don't have to--"

"John, it's okay. I'm fine." Noticing his skeptical glance, Elizabeth added a "really" for good measure. She took a deep breath and began.

---------Flashback---------

"You have ten seconds to decide, Dr. Weir."

_Shit. _Hergon had just issued her an ultimatum, and she didn't know what to do. She, the master thinker, the expert at finding solutions to outwardly unsolvable situations, was torn.

"Three seconds."

"Liz, I mean it." It was John again.

"Do not speak!" Kropol warned.

Elizabeth's head spun as voices swirled all around her. Which one should she trust?

"Don't tell them anything. Nothing, you hear me?" Major Sheppard asked her.

"Two."

"I said do not speak!" Kropol screamed angrily, pulling John's gun from his waistband and holding it above him menacingly.

"Not a goddamn thing, Elizabeth!" John warned.

"One."

"Liz, don't--"

Elizabeth watched in horror as Kropol brought down the Beretta on John's head, slamming the butt of the weapon onto the crown of his skull. The Major immediately went limp. She spotted blood beginning to trickle onto the table.

Hergon made a _tisk-tisk _noise with his mouth. "Quite a shame," she said condescendingly. "If he had only not spoken like he was told to…. We couldn't have him influencing your decision, now could we?"

Elizabeth's eyes remained locked on John's body. _Please, let me wake up from this nightmare_… she silently begged. What had John done to deserve this? What had _either _of them done to deserve this?

Hergon noticed her obvious concern and worry for the man lying on the table and decided to exploit it. He quickly strode up to her and planted his feet firmly in front of her own. He was a tall man and wasn't above using his height as an advantage. Leaning threateningly over her, practically in her face, he asked, "What is your decision, Dr. Weir?"

Through years of negotiations with hostile countries, this was easily the single most difficult decision she had to make, and she knew why. As a diplomat back on Earth, she bargained for weapons, technology, currency: material things. Thing that could be replaced, bought, traded for. And she had always done it on the behalf of a people whom she didn't know, who were faceless. Just a population number on some data sheet. But this… this was bargaining for someone's life… thousands of lives. Lives _couldn't _be replaced or bought or traded for. And this one life in particular belonged to someone she knew. Someone she liked. Someone she admired, respected, had a soft spot for even. She cherished him, she realized, for his carefree personality, for his sharp wit, and for his heart -- something she had found lacking in most military men. But he was anything but the typical G.I. Joe. Elizabeth wondered if it was ironic that the kindest person she had ever met was a member of the US military. He was different than the rest of them somehow, and Elizabeth didn't want to lose that.

She didn't know if she could do this. Her choice should be simple really. As a negotiator, she knew which option was the correct one, but as a human being… well, that complicated the matter considerably. Elizabeth knew what John wanted. He had practically screamed at her to not disclose who was Atlantis's commander in chief and who had the Ancient gene, but she wondered what he would do if he was in her shoes? Would he sacrifice _her_ life to save others? She knew the answer was no. But she also knew he would never forgive her if she passed on the opportunity to save innocent lives in order to spare his. He would never forgive himself, either. Her mind was made: if John was to die, she would respect his last wishes. _Forgive me, John…_

"Dr. Weir, you have wasted enough time already. Now tell me, which of you is Atlantis's chief and which of you has the Ancient gene?" Hergon was growing impatient and that scared her. She squeezed her eyes shut, not ready for what she was about to do. In her mind she imagined the Wraith, with their terrible mouth-like apparatuses on their palms, crowding over John, feeding on him as he screamed in pain--

"Dr. Weir, you will tell me now!"

There was silence in the room, a heavy silence that pressed upon her, crushing her. She couldn't breathe. She was weak. She needed strength, so she decided to draw it from the strongest person she knew. Elizabeth glanced over at John's body and said her silent goodbyes. Then she raised her chin and locked eyes with Hergon, his intimidation tactics no longer holding sway over her. She'd be _damned _before she'd tell these bastards anything. "Go to hell."

There, she had done it. It was hard, but it was over. Immediately after she had uttered those three words, she felt sick. Elizabeth knew what was going to happen next, and it disgusted her. _She _disgusted herself. There was little consolation in knowing that it was what John would have wanted.

Hergon stood frozen, his eyes still locked on hers. Neither of them was about to back down. Suddenly his face grew a shade of crimson and his brow furrowed in rage. The calm and genial leader of the Klaan people was forever gone, replaced with a demon from the very pits of Hell itself.

Elizabeth felt the fear inside her well up once more, but it subsided when Hergon turned away from her at last. With his back now to her, she allowed herself a sigh of relief.

Suddenly, the man whipped around and hit her with a closed-fist square in the face. She stumbled back toward the wall, trying to find her balance, but he continued to advance toward her. Elizabeth found herself being driven against the wall. Hergon's hands were around her neck. They didn't squeeze, but the threat was there. "I suggest you reconsider," he pressured through clenched teeth.

"I'd rather die," she responded. And it was the truth.

"You may soon get you wish." Hergon began to squeeze slowly and Elizabeth could feel her lungs begin to burn from the lack of oxygen. He continued. Soon she experienced tunnel vision but kept her eyes fixed on Hergon, refusing to play the part of the timid, frightened woman.

Wraith Number Two noticed Elizabeth's face begin to turn blue. He placed a hand on Hergon's outstretched arm, a signal to cease his torment. The human continued, however.

It was getting bad for Elizabeth -- she could barely see and had no oxygen. She gasped, hoping it would help, but the man's hands were clenched too tightly around her neck.

The Wraith once again attempted to stop the human. "Commander Hergon, stop this at once," he rasped. But his directions were ignored as the Commander continued to choke Dr. Weir.

"Commander, now is not the time."

Finally, Hergon seemed to understand. He blinked out of his violent transfixion and released Elizabeth. Without support, she fell to the floor in a heap and laid gasping and coughing for air. Her vision soon began to clear, and she could see Hergon looming over her. As he stared at her, he looked as if he was contemplating something.

A disappointed Kropol appeared at his side and threw Elizabeth a contemptuous glance. "What about him?" he asked, pointing to the still unconscious John.

"Not yet," was the soft reply. He sounded crushed, as if he had just bean beaten on the fields of battle.

Kropol looked shocked but did not question his boss. Again, dissatisfaction registered on his face. Elizabeth was not yet cognizant enough to understand the conversation, but as she pushed herself up to her elbows, she did understand that whatever had disconcerted the Klaan must have been good for her cause.

"Take them back," the Commander ordered. He headed for the exit, but not before making one last thing clear to Elizabeth. "Do not think we are done here," he spat sinisterly, grabbing her hair in his fist and wrenching her head back. "And do not suppose for one moment that I will hesitate to kill either you or the Major in the future." He released her once more, shoving her head backward into the wall.

He stormed out, followed by Kropol. Tiny and Number Two hauled her to her feet, not even waiting for her to stand on her own power. Number Two then forced her out the door into the hall while Tiny dragged the Major's body off the table. The Wraith towed John the entire way back to the cell where they were shoved in once again, left to wonder how long their torment would last.

--------End Flashback-----------

Elizabeth finished her narration, a single tear trickling down her cheek, and waited, gauging John for his reaction. He was silent. She wasn't sure what that meant: was he upset at her for basically signing his death warrant? _Oh God, he is, isn't he? _Or was he simply digesting the information she had just given him? In either case, she couldn't face him right now, not without thinking about what had almost happened. Elizabeth didn't know how much longer she could do this.

John didn't know what to say. He had known the Wraith were hateful creatures and had all too recently learned that the Klaan were equally as vile, but to see fellow humans torment their own people while elsewhere others were dying by the hands of the Klaans' own allies… to see for his own eyes what they could do, what they _had _done, to her… it made his stomach turn. He clenched his fists in anger and frustration. He didn't know what was worse: seeing Elizabeth suffering like this or the fact that he did not -- _could _not -- do anything about it. What really infuriated John was that he had been in the same room the entire time. _If I had just kept my goddamn mouth shut_…. He had found over the years that his mouth often got him in trouble, but this time it had repercussions not for him but for someone dear to him.

Major Sheppard took a deep breath, forgetting temporarily about his cracked rib, and unclenched his fists. _Pistol whipped by my own gun. Beautiful. _He needed to remain calm, for both his and her sakes. But behind those eyes was one seriously pissed off individual. "Elizabeth, I'm so sorry…. I didn't think any of this would happen…."

She looked up at him finally, surprised at his response. "What? You're not angry with me?"

He was equally as stunned. John stooped down and looked into her eyes. "Angry? Why would I be angry with you?"

Elizabeth faltered. Hadn't he heard what she had just told him? "John… I practically sentenced you to death… I _told _them go ahead and kill you, to let the Wraith feed on you--"

"No Liz, you told them _nothing_. And you did _exactly_ the right thing."

She wasn't following. "I… John, they said they were going to kill you, that they wouldn't hesitate--"

"Hey, I'm still here, aren't I?" he asked with a soft smile. "Listen to me. You did the right thing. They pressed you and they threatened you -- and me -- but you didn't give them what they wanted."

"But you almost _died_ because of me," she rationalized, more to herself than to him. She should have figured that would have been his answer.

"But I didn't. And do you know why I think that is?"

"Why?"

"Because they want something, something that's valuable to them. This information they need is so important to them that as long as we have it, we stay alive. They need us, and don't you believe a word they say if they tell you otherwise." He didn't add that if Hergon's patience ran out, they were the Wraith's next Happy Meal. John continued. "Whatever they need you or me for is important to the lives of thousands of people. So I want you to promise me something. Promise me that no matter what they threaten to do to me, you won't give them a goddamn thing." John figured it was only a matter of time before they started to use interrogation tactics involving threatening the other person's life on a regular basis. If those threats turned out to be bluffs or not remained to be seen.

Elizabeth saw determination and defiance written on John's face. She marveled at his courage but wondered if that would be enough. John had just asked her to put his life second to thousands of others, thousands of people she hadn't even met. Could she do that? Her expression mirrored her feelings of doubt.

Major Sheppard caught her uncertainty. "Liz. Promise me." This was the way it had to be.

"I promise," she agreed reluctantly. It _was _the right thing to do, but it didn't make it any easier.

"Okay," he smiled. He noticed Elizabeth shivering for the cold, but he suspected it was from fear as well. Wordlessly, he slipped off his jacket, placed it over her shoulders, and sat against the wall next to her.

"What about you?" she questioned, looking skeptically at his black tee shirt.

"Nah, I'll be fine," he lied. "I _was _based in Antarctica, remember?" She smiled at this, something John was glad to see. Glancing at his watch, he noticed it was past 22:00. "Why don't you try to get some sleep," he suggested.

She scoffed at his idea. Who could possibly sleep in this place?

"I know," he said, reading her thoughts. "Just try anyway."

She _was _tired, and a yawn confirmed that. "What if someone comes?"

He shrugged. "I'll stay up," he responded simply.

"All night?"

"Sure."

Elizabeth was about to offer to take a shift, but she was too tired to argue. Besides, there was something in his voice that was reassuring. There was no one in the world she trusted more than the man sitting next to her.

She let him put his arm around her shoulder, an act in any other circumstances might have earned him a half-hearted slap. She knew, however, that he was nothing but honorable in his intentions. Glad to have someone there to look after her, Elizabeth nestled into his shoulder. For the first time in the last week, she felt safe.

John smiled as he looked at the woman in his arms. He watched Elizabeth's eyes slowly close and began his nighttime watch. Maybe he would be warm tonight after all.

TBC

* * *

Ok, so you all can't kill me now: no cliffie!Be kind and review!


	10. Secrets Uncovered

**Strange Bedfellows**

**A/N: **I need to slow things down a bit, otherwise it will feel to rushed. Bear with me on this chapter, it's the deep breath before the plunge, to use a line from Lord of the Rings.:) The next ones will have more stuff happening and then a major turning point. I may need an extra day or two to get it together; my computer decides to die randomly and I've been really busy. But I will try to post ASAP!

**Spoilers**: There is a spoiler for the episodes "Suspicion" and "Rising" in this chapter. If you haven't seen "Rising," you probably shouldn't be reading this fic, lol.

**Chapter 10: Secrets Uncovered**

Lt. Ford ran his hands through his hair in frustration. He was seated in the briefing room along with Teyla, Rodney, Sgt. Stackhouse, and the ever-aggravating Sgt. Bates. All five of them had been discussing the possibility of a rescue mission for several hours now, and so far they had gotten nowhere.

"A rescue mission is absolutely out of the question, Lt. Ford," Bates explained. He was the chief reason Ford and his team weren't already searching for the Major and Elizabeth. "We have no idea where the Wraith have taken Major Sheppard and Dr. Weir or even if they are still alive."

"We know they can't be far," Rodney countered. "Well, not as far as one could be if one traveled through subspace," he said, as if that explained everything. Receiving questioning looks from the two Sergeants, he clarified himself. "We saw the Darts capture the Major and Elizabeth, and afterwards they headed off toward the horizon."

"So? Like I said, we have no clue where--"

Bates was cut off by Rodney.

"No, you're not listening to me, Sergeant. We saw them head off toward the _horizon_, not toward the Stargate. They didn't use the Gate to return to wherever they came from, so that narrows it down quite a bit. And considering the fact that Darts are short-ranged craft, they must have come from somewhere close to the village we visited. My guess is they were flown to somewhere on that planet or to a Hive Ship in nearby orbit," he finished, pleased with himself.

"That's smart," Stackhouse marveled.

"Yes, I know," was the smug reply.

"No, it's not smart. It's one giant assumption. And even of you _are_ correct, the planet Klaan is roughly the size of Earth. How the hell are we going to search the entire planet for two missing people?" Bates asked.

"Are you suggesting we leave Major Sheppard and Doctor Weir to die by the hands of the Wraith?" Teyla asked in disbelief. She had never liked Sergeant Bates, especially since he had suspected her and her people of being spies for the Wraith. She found him cold and heartless, caring nothing for the concerns of the others around him.

"They may already be dead for all you know."

Teyla stood up, ready to confront Bates for his heinous remark, when Lt. Ford finally spoke.

"That's enough, _Sergeant," _he said, stressing the man's rank to emphasize his superiority over him. _The powers of the chain of command: a little something I learned from the Major, _he thought bittersweetly.

After everyone had settled down and Teyla had taken her seat, Lt. Ford continued. "While I appreciate your input, Segeant, I'm certainly not going to abandon two of our people -- especially the head of Atlantis and the head of military personnel." With Weir and Sheppard now gone, Lt. Ford was the ranking military officer. He was in charge; it was his call. _Hell, I don't even know why I'm listening to this jackass._

"Sir, may I ask how you are going to find them?" Bates asked pompously.

_Ummm…_. He hadn't quite figured that part out yet.

"Sir, may I suggest returning to the village and talking with the locals?" proposed Stackhouse. "Perhaps they saw something or maybe this has happened before…?" he shrugged.

Ford doubted it. Hadn't Weir said the village had avoided being culled for some time? Still, Aiden believed it was a good idea to see if the Klaans knew anything useful.

"Yes, I agree," McKay spoke up. "Besides, I'd like to take Dr. Silverman to look at those ruins. Maybe there's something we missed. It did say something about the Wraith, but I couldn't translate it entirely."

"Yeah, good idea McKay," Ford agreed, feeling things fall into place. "Okay, this is what I want to happen," he continued, taking charge. "Stackhouse, get together your team, including Dr. Silverman, and be ready to go at 13:00 hours. McKay, find the doctor and fill her in on what you know so far. I don't want to waste any more time going over what you have already translated. Teyla, get three extra packs prepared for Dr. McKay, me, and yourself, and take along some extra ammo, just in case." Though he seemed calm and collected on the outside, he was inwardly awash with doubt. _I wish Dr. Weir was here. She'd know what to do._

"Lt. Ford," Bates began heatedly. "As head of security, I _strongly _suggest that you do not waste any more time searching--"

"You can_ suggest _all you want, Sergeant." Ford had had enough. It's wasn't like Bates was putting _his _ass on the line for anyone, so what the hell did he have to worry about? "I have had it up to here with your bullshit! Now I'm sending a team back to M4H-213 whether you like it or not."

"You are knowingly endangering the lives of six valued members of this expedition on the off-chance that _maybe_ two people are still alive. Do--"

"What are you saying, Bates?" Ford prompted, getting a little heated himself. "Are you implying that the Major and Dr. Weir are not worth the risk?"

There was a moment of heavy silence as Bates contemplated whether to tell the truth to Ford. Teyla, Rodney, and Stackhouse wisely remained silent, not daring to interrupt the fiery discussion that had erupted.

Finally, Bates spoke. "Yes, that's exactly what I am saying. Sir." He let the last word roll off his tongue drenched in disrespect and contempt.

Ford closed his eyes, attempting to keep his cool. Taking a deep breath, Aiden gathered his thoughts and spoke in a measured tone. "Sergeant Bates. Do I have to remind you about our first encounter with the Wraith?"

"That--"

"And do I have to remind you that when _your_ ass was one of the ones taken, it was Major Sheppard who risked his to get you back? I'm beginning to think he should have left you on that Hive Ship…."

"All I am saying, _sir, _is that we have better things to do with our time. If you haven't noticed, we still have a bit of a food shortage problem."

Lt. Ford couldn't believe what he was hearing. Did Bates honestly think that food was more important than human life? "I'll tell you what, Bates. Since you are so concerned with running low on food, you can be the first to ration. In fact, you can stop eating altogether. That should save us at least a little bit. I'm sure the members of Atlantis will thank you for your sacrifice, Sergeant."

"But--"

"That will be all, Sergeant. Dismissed."

Bates glared at the Lieutenant, wondering if this could be considered cruel and unusual punishment. _He really doesn't expect me not to eat, does he? _Bates then turned on his heel and stormed off to somewhere he knew these four wouldn't be.

Ford breathed a sigh of relief. He had seen Dr. Weir do that kind of thing all the time, and he had to give her credit. It was a lot harder than it looked.

Teyla smiled at Aiden, proud of his unwillingness to back down and his loyalty to his friends. Not more than a day ago this same man was pitying himself while sitting on a tree stump. Now he had quickly grown into an authoritative commanding officer, had stepped up to the plate when the need arose, and she had to respect him for that. Teyla knew he would be trying to model himself after John, and those were big shoes to fill.

"Wow," a surprised Rodney declared. "That was, um… impressive."

"Ditto, sir," echoed an equally shocked Stackhouse. Apparently, Bates had rubbed a lot of people the wrong way, including fellow enlisted personnel.

"Thanks," replied Ford with a small, slightly embarrassed smile. He had to admit he enjoyed chewing Bates out. Immensely.

"Lieutenant, as much as I liked seeing Sergeant Bates put in his place, we should not waste anymore time," Teyla suggested.

"You're right," he agreed, clapping his hands together. "Okay everyone, you have one hour to get your gear together. We move out at 13:00 hours."

------------------------

The trip to the village had been boring. Which, Rodney supposed, was fine with him. _Boring is good. Boring means you're not getting shot at. I much prefer my brilliant self in one piece, thank you very much._

While Stackhouse had taken his team, minus Dr. Silverman, to the interior to the village to question the locals, Ford, Teyla, Rodney, and Dr. Katherine Silverman had returned to the ruins outside the town.

"I forgot how fascinating this place is," Ford remarked sarcastically as they entered the area. It was little more than a few dilapidated columns and stone structures, obvious remnants of civilization. Aiden remembered how bored he and Sheppard had been while they had waited for McKay to finish the translations, though he wished he were back in that situation if it meant his CO was here and well.

"On the contrary, Lieutenant," Dr. Silverman replied, staring wide-eyed at the ruins before her. The anthropologist in her took over and she immediately approached one of the nearby columns, studying it. Instinctively, she began to translate the text.

"What's it say?" McKay asked, curious as to the text's meaning and doubly curious as to why _he _couldn't translate it.

"This here is just what you told me earlier: explaining who the Wraith are, a brief history of the Ancients, how the two were adversaries…."

"Yes, yes, we got that," he replied, exasperated. "Anything of, oh, I don't know,_ importance_?"

Dr. Silverman took off her glasses and turned to Rodney. "Look, Dr. McKay. Judging by the amount of text and the number of columns, there is enough information here to keep me occupied for weeks."

"Do you think you could find what you're looking for sometime this century, maybe?"

She sighed. Luckily, she had worked with Dr. McKay before and had thus became accustomed to his irritability. "It's possible. It seems to be a written history progressing in chronological order, so if I just scan each column…." Her voice trailed off as she walked around the nearest column and began her examination.

Ford moaned. This situation was all too familiar. They had been here only five minutes and already he was bored to tears. _Which reminds me, _he thought. "Hey Teyla?"

"Yes, Lieutenant? What is it?" she replied.

"Who's your favorite Angel?"

He was met with silence. "I am sorry?"

"You know, the television show _Charlie's Angels_? These three women worked for a man named Charlie whom they never saw. They only heard his voice over the telephone and it was their job…." He stopped when he noticed Teyla's expression of utter bewilderment and helplessness. _Hasn't anyone taught her about _Charlie's Angels _yet? Her brain's probably on overload right now, _he thought. "Nevermind. Some other time maybe." He wished Sheppard was here.

Hours passed and still they were no closer to learning the whereabouts of John and Elizabeth. Sergeant Stackhouse dutifully reported in on the hour via their radios, but so far none of the locals knew anything.

Late into the afternoon, a tired Stackhouse and his team rendezvoused with the others in the ruins.

"Sergeant, were you able to gather any valuable information at all?" Teyla asked hopefully.

"No, ma'am, unfortunately not. None of the locals saw the attack and they haven't heard of anything similar to this happening before. And to make matters worse, Hergon and some of the other Klaans are apparently missing, off on some hunting trip. I'd track him down, but no one knows where he is for sure. What about you? Anything of interest?"

"You could say that, yes," Dr. Silverman replied, poking her head from around a pillar. "Come take a look at this."

The team rushed over and stood behind her, eager to see what she had uncovered.

"This here," she began, pointing to an area of text, "is the history of the Klaan people. It tells of how they migrated to this planet long ago. In the beginning, they were a weak race, not able to defend themselves from opposing tribes' attacks. It also says they are were nomadic hunters and gatherers, but settled down in this village soon before this text was written."

"Yes, yes, that's all well and good," Rodney interrupted, rolling his eyes. "But we don't need a history lesson. Can we move on to something _beneficial_?"

"I'm getting there, Dr. McKay. Now it says here that when the Wraith began to cull their planet, many of their people died for lack of the ability to defend themselves. So they did the unthinkable. They struck a deal with the Wraith."

There was silence.

"They what?" Ford asked incredulously. _If this is her idea of a joke…_

"Unfortunately, you heard me correctly, Lieutenant. They forged an alliance with the Wraith which promised the Klaan people and exemption of sorts from the Wraith cullings. But it gets worse. The Klaans were eager to get revenge upon the peoples who had continuously attacked them, so they… they sold them out, their own kind. In return for the Wraith's protection, the Klaans agreed to provide them with the location and population of every culture that had attacked them so the Wraith could feed upon them. Soon after, the Klaan began to scout random planets via the Stargate in search of more worlds the Wraith could cull. This has been going on for hundreds of years, and by according to this--," she pointed to a newly etched engraving, "-- it still does."

No one spoke for several minutes. They all attempted to digest the information she had just given them, but they simply could not fathom how the humans and Wraith could peacefully align themselves with one another.

"I am sickened," Teyla said, breaking the silence. "I do not see how the Klaans can simply turn their backs on their fellow humans."

"Wouldn't some of the Klaans object to the alliance? I mean, someone must have disagreed with the partnership," Stackhouse asked.

"Yeah, someone sane," Rodney muttered under his breath.

"Well, according to this," Dr. Silverman explained, "not everyone in the village knows about the alliance, only a handful of people. The rest simply attribute their evasion of the Wraith cullings to their Gods protecting them. Luckily for them, none of the Klaan people venture into the ruins for fear they will suffer the wrath of the Wraith -- most likely a notion those handful of people planted into their heads. So their secret remains safe."

"And let me guess. Hergon and the others who are conveniently missing are the handful?" Ford asked, though he already knew the answer.

"Well why keep it all written down? Why run the risk of letting their secret out?" asked Rodney, with good reason.

"'To ensure the knowledge of the Alliance is passed on to our children and to their children, assuring the survival of the Klaan race,'" Dr. Silverman quoted. "It's a generational thing. In each generation, it is guaranteed that there is always a handful of people who know the truth."

"Does it say anything about the location of a Hive Ship or a nearby Wraith outpost?" Teyla asked, fighting to keep the anger from her voice. Never in her wildest dreams would she have imagined something like this. She knew her people would never betray their own.

"No, I'm afraid not," Dr. Silverman replied sympathetically. "I'm sorry…."

"It was a good idea, sir," Stackhouse offered.

"Yeah, I guess…" Ford replied. They had failed once again. They would return to Atlantis without one scrap of information on the location of their missing colleagues. Major Sheppard and Dr. Weir were truly gone, and there was nothing they could do about it.

TBC

* * *

Look, no cliffie! Again! What's gotten into me???

They all can't be about Liz and John, ok?! I wanted to establish that they were in fact looking for them. Sorta tie up some loose ends with the alliance thing. Don't worry, Ford and the others will catch a break, thought it might not be the best for all involved….hmmm…. I was going to call this chapter "Bates is an Ass" but decided not to. I REALLY don't like that guy. Review por favor!


	11. Name, Rank, Serial Number

**Strange Bedfellows**

**A/N: **Sorry for the delay and thanks for your patience. I figured out why my computer decides to die randomly... it overheats. So as I am writing this, my laptop is sitting on a bag of frozen veegetables, thus fixing my computer but ruining my meal. See what a good author I am? Sacrifing my dinner for you guys all in the name of writing... what a bunch of crap, lol!

I'm _still_ not pleased with this chapter, but I figured you guys have waited long enough, so here it is. The pace starts to pick up in the next one and in the chapter after that, and following those will be a turning point or climax - I'm not really sure which.

Also, due to the number of reviews I've been getting (not that I'm complaining :)) I have to stop replying personally to each one unless someone poses a question. PLEASE don't take offense to this and don't let it stop you from on, I need 5 more to get 100! The 100th reviewer gets... a new car! Wait, this isn't Oprah... I read each and every single one, and believe me, they are great. And hilarious! Apparently, everyone hates Bates, lol. Maybe I'll through a Kavanagh chapter in there for good measure...

Some of you have been telling me of problems getting chapter to come up. The only thing I can tell you is to type in http: URL box and replace the with the chapter number. It works for me when I have problems. If not, leave your email and I'll email you the chapter. :)

**Chapter 11: Name, Rank, Serial Number**

A dreamless sleep. Elizabeth was surprised; she had thought for sure she would have had at least a dozen nightmares about this place, but instead she had found peace in empty oblivion. She had slept through the night and wondered if John was able to get any shuteye at all. Opening her eyes, she realized she was no longer in his arms but instead lying on the cold floor, his jacket wrapped over her like a blanket. _Apparently, someone tucked me in, _she thought to herself as a smile played across her face.

Elizabeth rose to a sitting position and looked around the cell for John. He wasn't there. Neither was Tiny, missing from his usual guard position outside their entrance. The combination of those two couldn't be a good thing, Elizabeth realized. Glancing at her watch, which read 09:00, it dawned on her that she had no idea how long he had been missing for. She fought to keep the panic from once again welling up inside her as different scenarios played in her head, none of which she wanted to consider as a viable possibility.

Rising to her feet, Elizabeth walked to the entrance of the cell and peered down the hallway. She could see nothing, yet her ears picked up the sound of a door being slammed shut in the distance, followed by hisses and yelling. She couldn't make out the words, but from the tone of the voices alone, they were undeniably threats. Elizabeth clutched his jacket tighter. Soon, footsteps replaced the hostile noises.

Unlike before, she stood her ground, refusing to back feebly into the corner. Seconds later, Tiny appeared in front of the cell pushing a stumbling John along. Hergon was there as well, doing nothing but watching as the entertainment unfolded before his eyes. The Wraith shoved John through the entrance, and he would have fell to the floor had it not been for Elizabeth's quick thinking. Luckily, she was able to catch him before his face met the ground.

Hergon looked on, his ever-present smug expression still displayed on his face, as Elizabeth struggled to lower the man to the floor. Satisfied that the semi-conscious pilot was propped up in the corner well enough not to topple over, she turned her head and threw an accusatory glance at the Klaan commander. She was pleased to see the damage she had caused him warranted at least a few bandages. Elizabeth wished she had a scathing insult to hurl at him, but her mind was more preoccupied with the condition of the man in front of her. It was always John who had the witty retorts… now she wished she could see some of that same fortitude instead of this shell of his former self.

Kneeling down and running a hand through his blood- and sweat-caked hair, she uncovered a gash several inches long just above his right ear. The bleeding seemed to have stop, but a dried river of crimson trailed down the side of his face. There were bruises, too, along his arm and it appeared a black eye was beginning to form.

Noticing her concern, he gave her a small reassuring smile. "I'm okay," he attempted to say, but his throat was so parched no sound escaped.

She frowned; he obviously _wasn't _okay. And although his eyes may have told her not to worry, the occasional grimace that played upon his features when he thought she wasn't looking told her otherwise.

"If you wish this to stop," Hergon proposed, "you simply need to give us the information we seek. It is as easy as that, Dr. Weir."

She closed her eyes. Had she not promised John, she wondered if she would give Hergon his precious information just to see this torment stop. Of course, there was no guarantee he would release them. In fact, Elizabeth presumed he would continue to use them until he carried out his entire plan. _Whatever that may be…_

Taking her silence as an act of non-cooperation, Hergon smiled and said, "Very well. If you change your mind, you know where to find me." He turned and walked away confidently.

Turning her attention back to John, she watched his eyes trail Hergon down the hall. A look of contempt registered on his countenance. He did not even flinch as she placed a hand on his forehead. He felt warm.

"Hey, are you okay?" she asked, not sure if she wanted to hear the answer.

John turned back to her. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just need to rest, that's all." _At least my voice is beginning to work, _he thought.

She sighed, knowing he was lying to her. He always did when it came to his well-being. "What happened?"

He looked at her, unsure whether to answer truthfully. John looked to the floor innocently. "Nothing."

"Nothing? John, I wake up alone and find you gone for God-knows-how-long, and then you come back battered and bruised? I hardly call that 'nothing.' Now would you _please _tell me what went on?"

He _really _did not want to do this. John knew it would just be another cause for concern, and she had enough on her mind already worrying about how _she_ was going to survive. But that stare, the same stare she used when giving an order to a less-than-enthusiastic officer (and that a less-than-enthusiastic officer was usually him), wasn't letting him get out of this one.

He sighed. "They came early in the morning when you were still sleeping," he began reluctantly. "They asked for me, so I went with them back to the same room. I was sat in a chair while Hergon waltzed around the room. He did all the talking; he wanted to know the usual: who has the gene and who leads Atlantis. But I guess he got sick of me because after a few hours they returned me here."

"You should have woken me," she chided.

"Nah, I didn't want to upset you."

_What could be more upsetting than this entire situation? _she thought. "What about those bruises? And that gash?"

John had purposely left that part out. He didn't want her to know the pain he had suffered; she had been through enough of her own. "They, uh, apparently didn't like my idea of cooperation. The Wraith roughed me up a little, that's all." He shrugged, as if that type of thing happened everyday. "There's more of them, by the way. I saw a dozen or so Wraith and about six more Klaans in the halls." He deliberately neglected to tell her how the Wraith threw him across the room when he told them where to shove it. His head had hit the table, destroying it and tearing a gash in his skull.

"How's your rib?" she inquired.

"Fine," he responded all too quickly.

She wasn't buying any if it. Before he had a chance to protest, she lifted up his shirt and gasped at what she saw. His skin was dark purple where he had broken his rib earlier, but on his right side there were two other similar marks, each just as gruesome as the original.

"Jesus…" she breathed, reaching out her hand to touch the bruise. As her fingers lightly brushed the area, John cringed in discomfort.

"John, I'm sorry-"

"No, it's okay. I'm good," he insisted, pushing himself up with his arms and grimacing with the exertion.

"That's not what I meant…" she whispered. "I never apologized for not believing you back there on the planet. I should have listened to you… I was so stupid-"

"Don't you ever say that. Ever," he affirmed. "You are the most intelligent person I have ever met, not to mention the most considerate and caring. And you know what? That makes you the best CO I've ever had. It takes a special person to run this expedition, Elizabeth Weir, and it's not an easy task… but you've got it. And you're doing a damn fine job at it, too. So I don't want to hear you doubting yourself _ever_ again."

She was taken aback by his assertiveness. He _still _had faith in her, despite what she had gotten them both into. Surely he hadn't meant all those things he had just said?

"Besides, I wouldn't believe me either half the time," he quipped.

"How can you trust me after all this?" she asked incredulously.

John shrugged. "Easy. You're my boss," he stated and gave her one of his trademark grins.

This brought a grin to her face as well. "And the whole time when you were suspicious of Hergon… I thought you were just trying to be macho."

"You mean I _wasn't _being macho? Damn," he replied, pretending to take offense. "That hurts, Liz. Really."

She marveled at how he could keep his sense of humor and carefree nature about him in spite of the circumstances. Elizabeth smiled at him, glad once again to have him with her.

"We'll get out of here. You know that, right?" he asked. Ever since they had been taken, he had noticed her crushed demeanor. One of the first things he had gone through in basic training was a hostage interrogation survival course, and the single most important concept his teachers had stressed was the necessity of a positive attitude. John was beginning to fear Elizabeth didn't have that, and it worried him. Without hope, they wouldn't make it.

Elizabeth stared at him, knowing she would have to lie. "Sure," she replied in a shaky voice. Her failed attempt at nonchalance didn't go unnoticed. John squinted in doubt but let it go.

"Okay…. You hungry?" he asked.

"Starving - you wouldn't happen to have some donuts and coffee on you would you?" Elizabeth pouted.

"Ahhh, I have something better. How would you like to sink your teeth into a nice lemon-flavored Powerbar?" It was his last one. He waved it temptingly in front of her, but she looked less than thrilled. She hated Powerbars. "Come on Liz, you have to eat something."

She begrudgingly took the Powerbar from him and opened it, breaking off half to him and handing it to him.

"Thanks," he said, taking it.

"If I have to suffer, so do you," she replied with a wicked grin.

"You're getting as bad as McKay. It's a good thing he's not here or he'd be accusing me of trying to poison him with citrus-flavored energy bars."

They finished their breakfast in silence, each wondering what the rest of the day would bring. They didn't have to wonder long; Hergon and Tiny entered the cell several hours after their meal. Number Two and another Wraith stood guard outside, each armed with a Wraith Stunner.

"Major Sheppard, if you please…" Hergon stated, indicating the Major should come with him.

"What? You can't be serious!" Elizabeth protested. "He can barely walk after what you did to him this morning. You can't expect him to go through anymore of this, can you?"

"Elizabeth, it's okay… I'll be fine," John reassured her. He took her hand and rubbed his thumb over her wrist, trying to convince himself as well her that they would make it out alive. Besides, he felt they could interrogate him all they wanted to if it meant Elizabeth remained untouched. And luckily for the most part, it had worked out that way. So far.

Elizabeth stood in front of John, determined not to let them get what they wanted. She didn't know what one woman could do against the force of several Wraith and men, but she was damned if she would let them take John without her finding out.

"I can assure you, Dr. Weir, that Major Sheppard will have no need for walking," Hergon told her with a vicious smirk. With that, Tiny stormed toward them, deftly pushed Elizabeth out of the way, and grabbed hold of John's collar. He brusquely jerked John upward and began dragging him toward the exit.

"No, stop!" Elizabeth cried. "Leave him alone!" Elizabeth charged at Hergon and was surprised to find the man not even flinching. She didn't care; it would make it all the easier for her to beat the man to a pulp. When she was within several feet of him, however, Number Two aimed his Stunner and fired at near point blank range. The shot hit its target; Elizabeth immediately fell to the floor, unconscious.

John had seen the entire thing. "Oh, you _son_ of a _bitch_! I'm going to fucking _kill _you, you hear me?" He struggled with renewed strength against his captor, determined to get to Hergon, but the large Wraith was too strong.

Hergon laughed at Sheppard's threat. He also noted the obvious concern these two people had for one another, something he planned to use against them later. "So you say, Major," was the unimpressed response. "Now if you will follow me," he commanded, not waiting for a reply as he led them yet again to the interrogation room.

John struggled the entire way in vain. When they reached the windowless room he was shoved roughly into the chair once again. He took note that the table was destroyed from their last session, now splintered into large pieces on floor.

Hergon took his time, walking slowly around the room before beginning. _Probably an intimidation tactic, _John thought, rolling his eyes. _Just like in the movies. _He didn't know why Hergon bothered; he wasn't going to get anything out of him. It was silent; all he could hear was the sound of the heavy breathing of the two Wraith that flanked him.

At last, Hergon began, steepling his hands as a sign of confidence. "Major Sheppard. You know what it is I want. I propose you stop wasting your time and mine and tell me: are you Atlantis's commander or do you have the gene?"

He glowered at the Klaan commander angrily. "Major John Sheppard, United States Air Force, 306784159."

The other individuals in the room looked to one another in confusion while Hergon smiled in understanding.

"Major, please do not make more difficult than it already is. Do you have the gene?"

"Major John Sheppard, United States Air Force, 306784159," was the reply again. Name, rank, and serial number. It was all that was required to be given when taken hostage by a foreign combatant. John assumed this situation wasn't too different. _Yeah, if you overlook the added bonus of life-sucking aliens…_

"I can be a patient man, Major." Hergon slowly walked up to John and crouched to his height. He was barely three inches from his face, so close John could count his pocket marks. "Do you command Atlantis?" he asked in a calm, quiet voice.

John stared right back at him. After several seconds, he slowly replied with, "Major John Sheppard, United States Air Force, 306784159."

Hergon chuckled in amusement. He rose from his crouched position and glanced at up, as if contemplating something. Then, Hergon unexpectedly lashed out with his fist and connected squarely with the Major's jaw.

The blow caught him off guard, but by some miracle he was able to remain seated in the chair.

"Perhaps you would like to tell me what your job is in Atlantis instead?" Hergon asked.

"Major John Sheppard, United States Air Force, 3067-"

This time he was prepared for it, but it didn't make the punch any less powerful. This one was to his damaged ribcage. John stifled a cry of pain, Hergon was delighted to see, and attempted to regain control of his rapid breathing. He shut his eyes and concentrated on the task at hand.

Hergon thought about how to cleverly phrase the next question. "How many do you have under your command in Atlantis, Major?"

Breathing heavily, he replied with, "Major John Sheppard, United States Air Force-"

This one caught his temple. The force of the impact knocked John to the side. He blacked out for a moment and then began to see stars. The whole room was spinning; he couldn't focus. Hergon grabbed his shirt and pulled him back up to a sitting position. Not letting go, he asked, "Just how many pieces of Atlantean technology are there in the city?"

John coughed. He was having a hard time breathing ever since the hit to his cracked ribs. Sucking in as much air as his diaphragm would allow, John replied, "Major… John Sheppard…United-"

Hergon swung a piece of the destroyed table at the Major's head. John saw it coming too late. He attempted to duck but he moved too slowly. The blow hit home. John was knocked off the chair and thrown to the floor by the force of the strike where he landed hard in a heap. The intensity with which he was hit caused the wind to be knocked out of him and his broken ribs screamed out in pain. Once again his vision went black, only this time it was accompanied by the loss of hearing, too. Yet he was still unmercifully conscious and without the use if his senses - a feeling he did not like. John Sheppard liked to be in control, and this was far from that. He was vulnerable.

John coughed repeatedly as he again struggled to breath. His vision was slowly returning, but along with the restoration of his hearing came an incessant ringing in his head, which currently felt as if it weighed two tons. John could do nothing but lay on his side and gasp for air like a beached fish.

"Get him up," Hergon ordered one of the Wraith. The nearest creature reached down and forcefully pulled John up by the shoulders as if he were a rag doll and shoved him back in the chair.

John tasted a bitterness in his mouth. He turned and spat out blood while his eyes remained warily fixed on Hergon, watching him for his next move. Whatever the question was, he was prepared to answer it just as he answered the others.

The commander could see he was getting nowhere with this approach, so he decided to try another tactic. "You and Dr. Weir seem quite close, Major." He stopped there and gauged his captive for a response.

John didn't say anything. It had been a statement, not a question, and John didn't know how to respond to that. He chose to remain silent and see where this went. He had a feeling he wouldn't like it.

"She is a very beautiful creature, wouldn't you say so? Such a fine, pure specimen…."

John said nothing once more but shot Hergon a scathing look as if to say, "Don't push me."

Hergon could see he was grinding on the Major's nerves, pushing him to his limit. He continued. "You know what I think I would enjoy?" He paused to give John a moment to respond but he was met with silence. "I would thoroughly enjoy taking here right here and now in this room, right in front of you so you could hear her screams of anguish as I-"

John launched himself out of the chair at the vile man. It was probably what Hergon had wanted, but John didn't care. He just wanted to get his hands around the bastard's goddamn neck…. Adrenaline his only ally, John tackled the man to the floor. His arm cocked back, ready to strike, but Hergon's team of guards were upon him. Both human and Wraith alike pulled him from their commander and shoved him to the floor. Each took turns kicking and punching him into submission, and although he tried feebly to fight back, he was vastly outnumbered. Several of the Klaans, including Kropol, began to take pieces of wood from the table - some with nails still protruding from them - and use them as bludgeons.

He could feel them at first, but soon he grew numb with pain. A few kicks to his side and his ribs screamed as if they were on fire. A punch to the head and he couldn't see straight. One to his temple and the ringing in his ears grew louder. John didn't know if he blacked out, but the next thing he knew they had mercifully stopped their torment.

Hergon was not amused by John's little stunt and he _certainly _did not appreciate being knocked on the floor. He looked at the pathetic sight before him and ordered, "Get up."

Either John could not here or could not will his body to work, because he remained motionless on the floor.

"Get up," he commanded once more.

Sheppard picked his head up first, a task in itself was hard enough. He then tried to prop himself up with his arms, but his limbs were shaking so badly with the Herculean task. When he finally got to his knees, Hergon laid into his midsection with his boot and sent him crumpling to the floor again.

Enjoying the torture, Hergon ordered him to rise once more.

John coughed and began to rise to his knees when Hergon kicked him a second time. He felt so weak, so heavy; he didn't know how much longer he could last. And when Hergon commanded him to get up once more, John just lied there in response. He was tired, cold, hungry, and beaten. It took all his energy just to _breathe -_ he doubted if he could make it to his knees.

Hergon smiled; he had finally broken his prisoner. Enjoying the moment, he kneeled down beside the Major and grabbed his hair, forcing his head back into an uncomfortable position. "Now that you are ready to talk, you will tell me which one of you is the commander of Atlantis and which of you has the Ancient gene."

John marveled at his luck. Not more that several months ago he had been in Antarctica running boring transport missions. Now here he was in an alien galaxy known for its life-sucking Wraith being grilled by a _human. _He was in awe of the irony. John wasn't exactly sure what kind of mission he had signed up for those many months ago, but he was pretty damn sure getting interrogated by an alliance of vengeful humans and hungry vampires wasn't it.

"What is your answer?" Hergon pressed.

His mind was made. No amount of suffering could _ever_ get it out of him. He looked Hergon squarely in the eye and said, "Major John Sheppard, United States Air Force, 306784159."

Hergon was dumbfounded by the man's insolence. Never before had he encountered someone so bold. "As you wish, Major." Hergon then slammed his head into the wall, mercifully knocking him out.

"Return him to the cell," he ordered. "We will try once more with this one, but I would like to move on to Dr. Weir. She will break soon, I am sure of it."

TBC

* * *

You wanted a whumping chapter? You got it. No, I don't know Shep's serial number, I made it up. That doesn't qualifiy as a cliffie, does it? 5 more review, come on!


	12. Playing Nice

**Strange Bedfellows**

**A/N: **And the winner is... Enorm, the 100th reviewer! You get a... pat on the head:)

More f-bombs, just to let you know. Yeah, this chapter is icky. It could be considered rated R for attempted… well, you'll see. Yes, I know I'm a sick person. But I tried to keep it toned down. Don't worry, this is probably the worst it gets. I needed to put it in there because the rest of the story won't work without it.

Thanks again for all the reviews, and may I just say that you are all sick people? LOL. Loved the whumping, huh? And you want _more_! Jeez, you're so mean:)

**Chapter 12: Playing Nice**

Slowly, he regained consciousness. He felt like an creature who had been hibernating for the last few months, whose first taste of consciousness was its only in a long while. John was bone tired. How he had wished he had slept for that long. The two brief times he had lost awareness had been the only time he had slept in the last 72 hours.

John sat up and propped himself against the cell wall. Everything was heavy and his sides hurt like hell. To make matters worse, his killer headache had returned. And it was more than those little aches he often got when he spent too much time around McKay, listening to him yammer on and on about his theories on the flux compacitor¼ or something. _It feels like someone went to town on my head with a sledgehammer. Again._

Despite the pressing darkness of the cell, John kept his eyes shut. The smallest amount of light sent searing pain through his skull. Yet even without his sight, he sensed Elizabeth's absence. The cell seemed colder without her. John wondered what they were doing to her, if she was enduring what he had endured. Risking a glance toward the entrance, he noted that Tiny had adopted his post outside the door. Thankfully, that meant he wasn't in the room with her. Still, the simple fact of _not _knowing what was happening to her was enough to make John more than a little nervous.

For the first time in his life, Major John Sheppard was truly scared.

-

Elizabeth was puzzled. She had been seated in the chair in the same interrogation room for little over an hour now, yet neither Hergon nor his cronies had touched her. She had seen what they had done to John, had seen his battered body being dragged back toward the cell as she herself was sent to be questioned. No matter how many times she had called out to him, his limp form had not stirred.

Now here she was, facing the same captors, yet not a hand was laid upon her. Elizabeth wondered of that was a good thing or a bad thing. They had just asked her questions - questions about Atlantis, her roll there, the technology¼none of which she answered of course. It made her uneasy - and suspicious- to have so many individuals in the same room as her, none but Hergon speaking or moving. She wondered what it meant.

Then, as quickly as it had begun, it was over. Hergon ordered one of his men - _Kropol, was it? _- to return her to her cell. They had walked the entire way in silence with her knee only giving her minor difficulties. Kropol held her in a tight grip, one hand holding her wrists firmly together and the other, she was troubled to see, on her right hip. Had they been in any other situation, she would have used one of the self defense techniques Teyla had taught her_. If his hand decides to wander any further, _she stated to herself, _I just might anyway. _Although in this case, she much preferred John's method of self defense. In fact, it was he whom she had gone to first to learn the basics on how to defend one's self. Elizabeth had wanted just a simple combat move or two; she had in mind maybe flipping her opponent on his back or elbowing him in the face perhaps.

"Flipping him on his back?" he had asked her skeptically.

"Yeah, I see it in the movies all the time and I thought it looked really cool," she had replied with a smile she couldn't hide. Noticing the confusion on his face, she had continued in her best commanding voice, desperately trying to convince him. "And I think it would be highly beneficial for me to learn at least some defensive tactics, just in case something happens, not to mention everyone else on the base-"

"Liz," he had replied, still with the dumb look of befuddlement on his face, "why don't you just shoot him?" Then he had walked away, leaving her to stare after him with a look of bewilderment on _her _brow and eventually leading her to Teyla. That was the John Sheppard she had come to know and love: the childlike little boy trapped inside a man's body who had the simple solution for everything.

_Not this time, _she thought to herself.

Snapping out of her reverie, Elizabeth noticed they were in front of their cell. John was sitting against the wall, looking worn but staring hostilely at Kropol. Apparently, he didn't like the thought of the man's hand on her waist, the same man who had been leering at her the previous day. She gave John a look as if to say, "settle down"; she didn't want him in any more trouble than she had already gotten him into.

John relaxed but remained watchful as Kropol walked Elizabeth to the entrance. He was amused by John's clear hatred for him and roughly shoved his prisoner into the cell. As he did so, Kropol deliberately extended his leg, causing Elizabeth to trip and fall to the floor.

John was at her side as fast as his aching body would allow him to move, helping her up and moving her away from the loathsome scum. Kropol snickered at their obvious mental and physical distress and walked out, presumably back to his boss.

"I _really _don't like that guy," muttered John as he slid down the wall to the floor.

"No kidding. How're you doing?" Elizabeth asked.

"Me? You're the one who just came back from an appointment with Dr. Doom. I should be asking you."

"Actually, it's strange… the entire time they didn't lay one finger one me." She looked at John's reaction which mirrored her initial one - one of surprise. Pleasant surprise, but surprise nonetheless. "Yeah, I know… I don't know what to make of it." Not that she wasn't thankful she hadn't suffered - _as John had, _she added guiltily - but a part of her could not help but wonder…why? She supposed she should just count her blessings and not ask questions. Though the pins and needles from the Stunner will still annoying the hell of her.

"Well, thank God is all I can say," he breathed with a sigh of relief. Fortunately, his worry had been for nothing. As for why she had come out unscathed…well, hell, he didn't give a damn. She had been returned to him in one piece and that was all that mattered to him.

"So how _are _you doing? You look…." She struggled to find the right words without hurting him.

"Like hell?" he finished for her.

She nodded with a sympathetic look on her face.

John chuckled at her honesty. He had always appreciated that about her; she never minced words. "Good, because that's exactly how I feel." John didn't want to tell her what Hergon had threatened to do to her. Instead, he closed his eyes and attempted to rest.

Elizabeth began to worry about their current predicament. John was hurt badly, she had a few injuries herself, they had no food or water, and God knew how long they would be stuck here… hadn't they come to the Klaans to resolve a food shortage problem in the first place? She rolled her eyes at the irony. It seemed to be one of those days. All she knew was that she wished Beckett was here, along with McKay who was bound to have a dozen or so Powerbars on his person alone.

"Hey, John? Are you awake?" she asked, even though she knew he was.

"Uh huh" was the weary reply. His eyes remained closed.

"I've been thinking…what could the Klaans and Wraith both possibly want with us?"

John opened his eyes and looked questioningly at her. He had tried specifically _not _to think about that. "I don't know…something to do with the city I assume."

Elizabeth nodded and was about to reply, but she turned over her shoulder to make sure no one, from either species, was listening. When she was satisfied, she continued. "That's exactly what I've been thinking. They would use my knowledge of the city and your ability to use Ancient technology to…do what? Build a weapon? Feed upon the members of Atlantis? Track down the Athosians on the mainland?"

John shrugged. He had to admit, he hadn't figured out the details yet either, which really irked him. But for now, he would just settle for getting the hell out of here. He couldn't give a shit about the plans of the Klaans and the Wraith.

Several hours later, a face they both really did not enjoy seeing showed itself in front of the entrance. Tiny opened the door to the cell and entered, a twisted smile plastered on his face. He strode up to John and placed himself in front of him, not saying anything.

"My turn, huh?" John asked, though he didn't expect an answer. Rising slowly to his feet, he followed the Wraith out the door. "Be right back," he called over his shoulder to Elizabeth. He made it sound like he was just going to the store to pick up a bag of groceries. No doubt she would be worried.

The two walked most of the way without muttering a word. The silence was deafening.

"You guys don't talk too much, do you?" he asked Tiny.

The Wraith continued to stare straight ahead with that perpetual look of malevolence their kind always seemed to exhibit. He did not answer.

_Okay… _John thought. _Maybe the big guy's shy, doesn't like to talk._

Then after several seconds of silence, Tiny spoke. "One could say the same for you, Major Sheppard."

_Touché, _thought John to himself.

"Though that will soon change," Tiny concluded as they reached their destination.

John was once again sat in yet again the same chair in the same room. The door was shut firmly behind them as the two Wraith took their positions behind John. Hergon stood and looked at Sheppard thoughtfully, trying to decide how to approach the line of questioning this time.

"Major Sheppard, you have been here for several days now. We both now you cannot last much longer. Why not provide us with our information and we will release you and Dr. Weir."

John rolled his eyes. He knew the Klaans needed them. They would never be released until Hergon was done using them. _At which point he'd probably kill us instead. _"You know, this is getting really old, really fast. And as much as I enjoy your company, I'd really like to be getting back home now, so…." He braced himself for the expected blow from Kropol, but it never came.

Hergon contemplated his next move. "Major, what is the location of Atlantis?"

_Okay, that came out of nowhere. _John was a little stunned. Thus far, they had only asked who had the gene and who led Atlantis. Now they wanted the Gate address for Atlantis? It confirmed Elizabeth's and his theory, but he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. _Probably not, _he thought.

"Um, I forgot," John replied smugly.

Hergon bristled slightly at Sheppard's arrogant attitude. "I'm glad you find this so amusing, Major. I'm going to ask you again: what is the location of Atlantis?"

John knew if they were smart enough, they could access the DHD's memory and look up the Gate address themselves. But they Klaans weren't technologically advanced at all. They didn't even know how to use a gun.

"It's, you know… around," he replied with a shrug. John was determined not to give Hergon and his men anything, even if they simply wanted to know the best place to get a burger. Once again, John prepared himself for a strike, but like last time, it never came.

"Your arrogance astounds me," Hergon spat. Then he nodded to Kropol, who nodded in return to his commander, and left the room.

John watched Kropol leave. _Where's he going? _Not once had anyone left the room during previous interrogations. Why now? He felt the fear well up inside him as he attempted to get a peek at where the man had gone to.

They spent the next few moments in silence, John's affixed to a spot on the far wall. He was beginning to hate that spot. He knew everything about it: its diameter, its color… he thought it even looked a little like a giraffe-

"Major, this is your last chance. I'm giving you a choice: you can either tell me if you have the gene, if you lead Atlantis, or the location of the Lost City."

_Oh, he's giving me a _choice_. Well, in _that_ case… _John thought to himself sarcastically. "Hmm…" he said, pretending to heavily weigh his decision. "I don't suppose you know the meaning of the term 'fuck you,' do you?" He knew they didn't, but he assumed from the tone of his voice they would get the gist of it.

Hergon smiled. He would so relish breaking this one, even if it did mean waiting a little longer for the information he sought. "Very well, Major Sheppard. Return him to his cell. I will join you shortly."

_Join us? _John thought. _Why would he want to see me personally back to the cell? What the hell is going on here?_

As he was yanked up by a human he had not seen before, John noticed a metal object protruding from the waistband of one of the man's pants. His 9 mil. _Son of a bitch… what is it, a goddamn trophy? _This was the second man he had seen it with. Apparently, the primitive race was fascinated by the weapon but still unable to operate it. Which was a good thing in their case, John noted, because the safety was in the off position. If anyone were to accidentally pull the trigger out of curiosity… _well, one can always hope, right?_

John was led out the doorand down the hallway back to the cell. Unlike the silence during the trip down, he could now hear faint noises in the distance. _Was that…crying? _He cocked his head in uncertainty. It was too faint; he couldn't hear. And then another sound… another voice. Male.

He attempted to increase his pace, to get back to Elizabeth quicker, but the Klaan was holding him back. Major Sheppard turned to him and noticed he was smirking, but the man refused to meet his gaze, looking instead straight ahead. Whatever was going on, he knew about it. Something was wrong.

The remainder of the return trip seemed interminable. During that time, the voices had grown louder. Elizabeth's crying had now mixed with her screams and the male voice had begun yelling. Threats, it seemed. He could make out muffled words - bits and pieces of phrases.

"Please…don't… if you… John…" Elizabeth had cried.

"Stop… still… or I will… hurt… even more," was the reply from the unidentified male voice. It wasn't Hergon, this much John knew.

John tried once more to pull away from his captor, but his grip was too firm. He didn't remember the walk to the interrogation room being this long.

At last, they arrived in front of the cell. John was horrified at what he saw. Outside the cell were three fully armed Wraith, three Klaans, and as promised, walking down the corridor was Hergon. But it was what lay inside the confinement that truly stopped his heart.

There in the middle of the floor lay Elizabeth, hand bound crudely with a piece of cloth. On top of her was the source of the male voice: Kropol. He had a knife to her throat. John noticed it was his knife, and it drew several beads of blood from her neck. He also noticed her shirt had been unbuttoned almost the entire way.

John was pushed roughly against the branches which made the entrance to the cell, forced to watch the torment unfold in front of his own eyes. He watched her struggle against the larger man in vain, watched her spit in his face when he pressed down harder with the knife. A chorus of boos radiated from the crowd of onlookers. Did they think this was a game? Kropol violently slapped her across the face in response, tearing her lip open. He then pressed down on her injured knee with his own, causing a scream of pain to escape her lips. The crowd erupted in applause.

Elizabeth spotted John out of the corner of her eye. She immediately begged for his help. "John, please help me!" she sobbed. "John, help-" A scream, her own, cut off her words as the knife was pressed deeper into her skin.

It was killing him. John was merely several feet away, but might as well have been a galaxy away. He couldn't help her, and it was killing him. All he could do is look on in horror as the woman he had made it a personal mission to care for was brutally assaulted. The woman he cared _about._

Hergon walked up slowly to John, stopping only a moment to watch the drama unfold. He hadn't planned it this way intially, but the two prisoner's obvious concern for each other was too good an opportunity to miss. Ever since he had nodded to Kropol in the interrogation room, a silent order to begin this phase of the plan, he had enjoyed watching emotions play out on the Major's face. It had begun with confusion, evolved into horror, and now grown into utter helplessness.

"Major Sheppard," he began, whispering. "You can end this. All you must do is tell me what I wish to know and I will put a stop to it. She doesn't have to suffer like this."

John continued to watch Elizabeth struggle against Kropol as he began to take his belt off. There was no stopping him save one way. John turned to Hergon and opened his mouth to speak when he remembered something. The man behind him had a gun, _his _gun, tucked into the waistband behind his back. John pursed his lips in concentration, trying to remember how many rounds he had left. He had emptied an entire clip at the Wraith Dart plus two more rounds, so that left… eight bullets. But there would only be time for one, maybe two shots. He would have to time this just right… _Hail Mary…_

With the element of surprise as his only aid, Sheppard elbowed the man behind him in the stomach, causing him to release his grip. He then pushed him into Hergon, forcing them both to stumble backwards, but as he did so, he grabbed the pistol from the man's pants. Turning back toward the cell, John poked the muzzle of the 9 mil through one of the openings in the branches. He hoped to God hid aim was good - a miscalculation by mere inches could fatally wound Elizabeth. With one last look down the sight, he pressed the trigger twice.

The bullets found their mark, closing the distance to their target in mere milliseconds. They hit home in the center of the back of Kropol's head even before the empty casings clanked to the ground.

But John didn't have time to admire his marksmanship. As soon as he had finished the second shot, he had immediately turned around and aimed at the crowd of onlookers, hoping to take at least a few down with the remaining six bullets. As soon as he turned, however, Hergon blindsided him, crushing him under his bodyweight against the entrance. The gun was knocked loose as Hergon slammed his hand against the nearby stone wall. It fell to the floor with a resounding thud.

Soon the mob was upon him. John didn't struggle as both Wraith and human forced him to the ground and pummeled him into submission. He knew it would be futile. Sheer numbers suggested it, not to mention the strength of his opponents. Besides, he had accomplished what he had set out to do, and everything else was now secondary. He slipped into a blissful rest.

-

Elizabeth had seen the ordeal unfold before her eyes. She had watched as Kropol pressed John's knife harder against her throat, warm blood trickling down her neck. She screamed for help, not even sure of what she was saying. And then she had seen John, pressed against the entrance and watching, powerless to do anything. The hurt in his eyes had told her of his inner agony at being forced to watch.

The ensuing seconds passed like years in her eyes. There was no sound for Elizabeth, just the sight of Kropol looming threateningly above her. Then suddenly, she saw him freeze. A look of shock was frozen on his face. He didn't move for the longest time… and then he began to teeter slowly on his knees. She didn't know what had happened. Kropol then began to slowly fall toward her, gaining momentum as he fell like a tree falling in the forest. He landed heavily atop her.

Elizabeth was still utterly confused. Was he dead? She reached up, attempting to push the weighty man off of her, when her hand accidentally brushed the back of his head. Her fingers came back slicked in red. Blood. _But how…? _she wondered.

Looking up, Elizabeth noticed a struggle occurring outside the entrance. John was being forced to the ground as a - _was that a gun? _- fell from his hand. She watched as men and Wraith advanced upon him, beating him. He hadn't even resisted at all. Once he was unconscious, an enraged Hergon tossed him roughly into the cell and began to conference with him men.

The entire time Elizabeth had been lying under the body of a dead man. It had not registered until now. She panicked and began to push Kropol off her, but he was too heavy. Tried as she might, he would not budge. Finally, with the use of her legs, she crawled out from under him and scurried to the corner, as far as she could possibly get from the corpse.

Elizabeth brought her knees up and wrapped her arms around them, making herself as small as possible. She noticed she had Kropol's blood on her hands. Rubbing them furiously, both together and on her jacket, she attempted to get the crimson stain out, but it remained. She rubbed faster and faster in a worried frenzy, but the tint stayed. _For how long? _she wondered. Would she be cursed with this stigma all her life as a reminder of her failings, her faults?

The conference broke and several men entered to gather the body of their fallen comrade and the knife. Elizabeth prayed they wouldn't notice her in the corner. They did, but did not advance in her direction, choosing instead to cast hateful looks in at her as they carried the body out.

The men gave a kick to another prone body on the floor as the exited. This one was breathing, but clearly unconscious. _Who is that? _Elizabeth asked herself. She thought he looked familiar; his unruly dark hair, his black shirt, the five o'clock shadow he always seemed to have reminded her of someone she knew, someone she cared about… but she couldn't place him. Who was he? No, she did not know this man and therefore could not trust him. Elizabeth felt herself sinking further and further into the corner, attempting to escape the unknown and blocking out the awful memories. She fell into a blank nothingness.

* * *

Oh, I am SO sorry. I didn't want to do that, but it's necessary, okay! You'll see. And it's not like it actually happened, just _almost_ happened... I am so evil. Forgive me?


	13. Broken

**Strange Bedfellows**

**A/N: **I am only forgiven if I posted soon, so here it is! F word advisory (it shouldn't be a shocker by now, lol).

Augusta and NuclearMage: She doesn't have amnesia per se; it's explained in this chapter.

**Chapter 13: Broken**

John awoke slowly. He was getting sick of this. _What is this, the third time now I've woken from a pain-induced snooze? They could at least have the courtesy to put me in a coma next time… _Instead he had to suffer through the nightmares - at least he thought they were nightmares - of Elizabeth being brutally tormented. He would always awake, just as he had this time, as a Wraith descended upon her to feed.

He didn't bother sitting up; the floor suited him just fine for now. It was glacially cold but a welcome relief from his burning ribs. His eyes scanned the floor, searching for the knife, but no such luck. His captors must have taken it. Instead, his eyes wandered to a dark pull of blood that now stained the floor. Kropol's blood. _Serves the bastard right, _John thought. Sure, he never took pleasure in taking one's life, but he did it when necessary, consequences be damned. And in this case, it had been more than necessary.

His mind wandered to Elizabeth. She wasn't in his line of sight. Turning his head, he found her huddled in the corner of the cell, staring at her pulled up knees. Her face was blank. As he rose to a sitting position, he noted she didn't even acknowledge his presence. Her eyes remained fixed on her knees.

After taking a moment to collect himself and letting his eyes focus and head stop spinning, he slid over to her. He didn't dare trust his legs just yet. As he neared her, she finally noticed his proximity to her. Cocking her head to the side, she cast a perplexed glance at him, as if trying to place his face. Whether she recognized him or not he couldn't tell, but she shrunk further back into the corner, ducking her head below her knees and keeping a wary eye on him. She was afraid of him.

He slowed his approach and weighed caution against concern. "Liz… it's okay… it's me, John." Receiving an uncertain look, he continued. "You know, the guy you recruited on this expedition… the one who constantly gives you a hard time…?"

Elizabeth continued to watch him fearfully. He noticed her body was shaking and then remembered that without his jacket and with her shirt still unbuttoned, she was probably freezing to death. John reached out to touch her, but she shrank away from his contact.

"Elizabeth, listen to me. You're going to freeze with your shirt open like that. Now I'm going to button it back up for you, okay?" He spoke as if he were speaking to a child in calm, measured tones. John felt it was important to ask her permission before helping her, though he received no response. Her eyes remained fixed to his and full of worry.

He sighed and reached out once more. Again, she shrank back, but there was nowhere else to go - she was already backed into the corner as far as possible. As much as he didn't want to distress her, he knew that if he didn't get her warm soon she would fall ill. _Christ, her hands are blue already… _Despite her anxiety, he continued to attempt to help her. He was able to fasten the first button before a small whimper of fear escaped her lips.

_Jesus… _he thought. It pained him to see her in this condition, to have her fearing him instead of trusting him. Hell, he would have settled for one of her incensed diatribes - anything of her former self. He continued on, determined to get her warm before she caught a cold or something worse. John didn't want to lose her to a insignificant virus after she had made it through all this. No, he had gotten her this far and would get her home.

He finished buttoning her shirt. John wondered what kind of punishment he would have received had anyone caught him buttoning up the shirt of his CO in any other situation. When he finished, he grabbed his jacket which had apparently been ripped off or had fallen off her during the skirmish and placed it around her shoulders once more.

Satisfied she was now as warm as he could get her, he sat back and studied her. It broke his heart to see her like this: dark circles under her eyes, bruises covering her body, her hair disheveled…. No hint of the strong, dedicated woman he had gotten to know well in Atlantis now showed itself. John didn't want to begin to think about what she would be like if Kropol had actually… he blocked those thoughts from his mind. He had noticed her spirit dwindling over the past few days, but it seemed like she had finally collapsed. She had broken.

They sat in silence, each looking at one another, one with concern and the other with apprehension. In an attempt to win back her trust, he boldly but cautiously reached out toward her hands. She let him clasp her hands in his and rub them together, trying to get them warmed up. Her eyes did not once leave his. When he was done, he let her hands rest in his. Again, she did not pull away. John was even able to untie her bonds from around her wrists.

Cringing at the bruise that had already formed on her face where Kropol had hit her, John for the first time was glad he had killed someone. He had shot down bandit aircraft and attacked enemy ground troops, but never had he felt as… _relieved _as he had now. In the past, none of his foes had personally assailed him. But now… they had attacked Elizabeth, and that was as good as an attack against him.

Without thinking, John reached up and attempted to touch the bruise with his thumb. As soon as his hand neared her face, however, Elizabeth perceived his action as a threat and drew away shrieking.

"Shhh, Liz, it's alright… it's alright, it's me…" John soothed, remaining calm on the exterior but heart-wrenched inside.

"No! Get away from me!" she yelled.

"No, it's okay... I'm right here-"

"Stop it! Go away! Don't hurt me!"

John suppressed a pang of anguish, his eyes wide with hurt. "God, Elizabeth, I would _never _hurt you, and you know that," he almost pleaded. He reached out to touch her shoulder, but she pulled back once again.

He gave up. She was completely and utterly _terrified _of him. Not that he blamed her; he had just killed a man right on front of her. Right _on top _of her. A man who was about to rape her. Anyone would be traumatized. He had seen this type of behavior before in soldiers who had returned from harrowing missions or who had witnessed life-threatening events. _Well, this certainly qualifies as a life-threatening event, _he thought. He was no psychologist, but John was pretty sure he was looking at PTSD, posttraumatic stress disorder.

Not knowing what else to do, he left Elizabeth alone and moved a good ten feet away. She still held his gaze, muttering "go away," over and over again like it was her personal mantra. It agonized him. She wouldn't survive much longer in this condition; he needed to get her out. Now.

He looked over sadly at her. Elizabeth had stopped staring at him and was now once more looking at her knees. She was also rocking back and forth and her repetitive mumbling had softened. If he didn't get her help soon…

John felt if he had just kept is mouth shut again… _but no, I had to tell him to go fuck himself. Way to go, John._ He cursed himself for indirectly causing this.

They spent the next few hours in silence, the only sound the occasional murmur from Elizabeth. John spent the time with his eyes downcast, staring at the floor and thinking what he could have done, should have done, should _not _have done… surely there was something. He didn't know what it was, but there had to be _something, _there always was. And he was beating himself up over it. But he supposed it didn't matter now; the only thing that meant anything to him was getting off this God forsaken Hive Ship.

His head snapped up at the sound of approaching footsteps. The Wraith opened the entrance as soon as they were close enough, not even bothering to stop and scrutinize their prisoners. Hergon followed in after the creature, walking quickly with a single-mindedness to his step that scared John. No doubt the man would be infuriated with John for killing his second in command. John didn't give a shit.

"Major Sheppard. With me," he commanded in a curt tone.

John looked at Elizabeth. She hadn't even noticed their presence, and for that matter they hadn't bothered to acknowledge hers either, which he supposed was a good thing-

"Now," Hergon stressed.

Slowly, John rose to his feet. He was surprised he was able to walk at all, but judging by Hergon's temper, he doubted he would be able to after the man through with him.

Hergon led the way, his pace quick. John was forced by Tiny to follow just as quickly, a difficult task for the injured pilot. When the reached the room, Sheppard had felt like he had just ran a marathon. No sooner had they entered the room and closed the door than had Hergon turned around and decked John. Having not been paying attention, John was caught off guard and fell to the floor.

Hergon shook the hand he had used to punch the Major in disgust. He shouldn't have to be doing this. He should have the information from his prisoner already.

Two Wraith, Tiny and Number Two, yanked him off the floor and sat him in the chair. This time, however, his hands were bound tightly together behind his back.

"Not that we don't trust you, Major Sheppard, but we can't have another incident like today's occur again."

John simply stared at him, beyond the point of caring.

"What you did today was foolish. You may think you have bought her some time, but I can assure you that you have only hastened her decline," Hergon stated as if it were a commonly known fact.

_Had I? _John wondered to himself. Was Hergon correct? From what John had witnessed, he was. Not only was she unresponsive half the time, but the other half she was petrified of him. Who knew what would soon happen to her, especially if they got a hold of her once more?

"And by murdering my second in command," he continued, "you have only succeeded in making me thoroughly infuriated. I am giving you one chance to give me a reason not to kill you and Dr. Weir right now."

"Because I run Atlantis," John blurted out. He was sick of these cruel games, and if that meant lying to get Elizabeth the hell out of here, so be it. His plan had been to get the _both _out of here, but since that obviously wasn't going to happen…. Once they found out the truth, _if _they found out the truth, she would be home safe and there would be nothing they could do about it. There was no other way; it was obvious Ford and his team weren't going to come in time if they were coming at all. No, this was the only option.

"Is that so?" Hergon asked, not hiding a triumphant grin. He had won. The Major had broken.

"And I also have the Ancient gene," John added quietly. He tried to sound defeated, not that it was hard to do, but in order for this to work he would need to pull off a little acting job.

Hergon's grin broadened into a full blown smile. Finally, after several long days of hard work, they had met success. Soon, they would have the information they needed. He didn't know what he relished more: the thought of their objective being met or the thrill of finally crushing this defiant prisoner's will.

"Tell me, Major. What sort of Atlantean technology can you operate?"

Now it was John's turn to smile. "Just a second. You let Dr. Weir go and I'll tell you everything you could possibly want to know about me." He cocked an eyebrow and waited for a response.

Hergon's own brow furrowed in thought. This was certainly not what he had expected. Was his captive offering him a deal? "May I remind you that you are the prisoner here and, as such, in no position to make demands."

"I disagree." John leaned forward, hoping it would give him some air of confidence. He hoped none of his captors noticed his hands shaking behind his back. John spoke softly and unhurriedly. "You and I both know it's the only way to get me to talk. You return her to Atlantis and I'll give you my entire autobiography if you want it. Otherwise, you might as well have a mute prisoner on your hands."

Hergon thought about the proposal for a long while. John tried to read his emotions, but his face was stone.

"Besides," John continued, "you'll have no need for Dr. Weir. You have nothing to gain by keeping her here." _Shit, am I trying too hard? Will he call my bluff?_

"What exactly are the conditions of your little arrangement?"

John was shocked. Was he actually considering his offer? Now he would have to think on his feet. "I want Dr. Weir and myself to be escorted off this Hive Ship back to the Stargate on your planet. I'll need my radio and IDC device. After I dial the Gate and Elizabeth goes through, you can take me back here."

"You ask a lot, Major Sheppard. You cannot possibly expect us to give you your gear and allow you to simply walk up to the Stargate."

"Look, I need my gear to get through to Atlantis. Without it, she doesn't go and you don't get your precious information. Besides, you can have all the Wraith you want guarding me at all times," John proposed.

Hergon tighten his lips in thought. This really was too good to be true. Their plan had paid off after all. But still, something was not right…

"Those are my terms. Take it or leave it," John declared.

The Klaan commander enjoyed watching Sheppard stew as he deliberated over his proposal in his mind. His prisoner expected him to agree to it, he just knew it. And therein lied the problem… the Major seemed almost to eager to strike a deal…. "I shall think about it."

John tried to keep his face from falling. He had hoped for an answer now so Elizabeth could be sent home ASAP. Now he would have to wait.

"But there is one flaw in your logic, Major Sheppard," Hergon said.

"What's that?" asked John, curious, He expected something about guards, weaponry, or even an objection to his presence being there at the Gate.

"We are not on a Hive Ship, Major."

John's jaw fell. _How could this not be a Hive Ship? The interior was an exact replica! _He had assumed that the Dart they had been captured in would return to a Hive Ship. Apparently, he had been wrong.

Hergon enjoyed the look of befuddlement on John's face. "This is a Wraith outpost of sorts, created when the Alliance between our races was first forged. Would it surprise you to learn you have never left the planet Klaan? That we are only a short distance away from the village you met us in?"

_Uh, hell yes it would, _John said to himself before thinking the better if it. Nothing surprised him anymore.

"Now in the meantime," Hergon went on, "we still have the little unresolved matter of the murder of my subordinate." He began to stroll around the room.

John didn't like where this was headed. He scoffed at the way these detestable traitors used the word 'murder' as if they were somehow better than the vile behavior they continued to display. He then saw Hergon get handed his gun, his own Beretta with six rounds still loaded.

Hergon stroked the muzzle wickedly. "I want to thank you, Major, for teaching us how to use your weapon. It is such a beautiful thing, not to mention effective…."

_Oh, shit. _John knew where this was going. The crown of onlookers had evidently watched John carefully when he had shot Kropol and now they knew how to fire the 9 mil: simply pull the trigger. They may not have been an advanced race, but they were sure quick to pick up on new skills.

"But why am I telling you this, Major? You already know how effective it is, don't you? After all, you killed one of my men with it." His voice turned cold and hard.

"But I wonder…." Hergon let his voice trail off as if he were actually pondering. "I wonder if you can truly appreciate its true efficiency without being on the receiving end of its power. What do you think, Major?"

John didn't know how to reply. Anything he said would surely get him shot. Hell, he was probably going to get shot anyway out of sport and spite. His eyes remained fixed on the weapon as the business end of the gun was pointed at him.

"You know what I think? I think you take its capacity for destruction for granted. Is that so, Major?"

Again, he remained silent, eyes still glued fearfully to his pistol.

"What do you say we find out, Major Sheppard?" Hergon concluded. And with that he pulled the trigger.

TBC

* * *

I AM SO EVIL! Now THAT was a cliffhanger. I know you hate me, review anyway:) Couple chapters more and then something really big happens, muahaha!


	14. Demons

**Strange Bedfellows**

**A/N: **Wonder why Shep feels so guilty? This chapter answers that. Ah, the angst!

This one took a while to fix up, so sorry for the delay. Plus, I'll be going to a lot of doctors in the next few weeks, so no promises on the speedy updates. :( Thanks for all the... um... words of encouragement that were strategically placed between the words of hate? LOL. Despite what you all think, I do NOT intentionally end chapters in cliffies (well, most of them anyway), it just sort of writes itself that way. And yes, Hergon will get his soon enough and John can take plenty more, haha. And there is and ending in sight, I just have to figure out the pace to it.

**Chapter 14: Demons**

Click. The sound of the 9 mm's hammer hitting the empty magazine echoed throughout the room.

_What the hell? _John thought. He knew there were six rounds left in his gun. He should be dead by now - not that he was complaining.

Hergon stared bewilderedly at the weapon. He and the rest of the Klaans had taken it apart several hours ago in order to garner a better understanding of how it worked. Because of their lack of expertise in anything technological, they had only succeeded in removing the magazine by depressing the lever and had counted the bullets. What the other switches and buttons did, Hergon did not know. It didn't matter; convinced he had the basic grasp of the handgun's capabilities, the Klaan leader had reinserted the magazine and brought in Major Sheppard for a little payback. What he didn't realize, however, was that he had to cock the gun after reloading it.

Which was why Hergon was now looking at the Beretta and wondering why his plan had not worked. He had pulled the trigger just as he had seen Major Sheppard do. Why was it not firing?

John noticed at that moment that there was no bullet loaded into the chamber. _The dumb shit didn't cock it, _he thought with a smile. He cleared his throat and in his best helpful voice said, "You have to chamber a round first," knowing damn well the Klaans had no idea what the hell that meant or how to do it. For now.

Hergon threw the Beretta down in disgust and pulled out the major's own knife instead. It wouldn't nearly be as painful, but it would have to do for now. Pressing the blade against his prisoner's throat, he said, "You are quite the lucky man, Sheppard. It seems your death has been postponed for the time being."

_Bullshit, _John thought. As long as Hergon's information still eluded him, he wasn't going to kill his prisoners just yet - especially since John had him believing he was the leader of Atlantis. Elizabeth, on the other hand….

"But do not think, Major, that you are excused of your crime," Hergon continued, moving the knife slowly to his arm.

John kept his eyes locked on Hergon's, knowing that if he followed the knife's path as he was tempted to do, it would be a sign of fear. It would be exactly what Hergon would want him to do.

"Rest assured, we will think of more… _creative _ways to discipline you," the commander said, drawing the blade a few inches over John's skin.

A sharp intake of breath was the only reaction Sheppard had to the wound, much to Hergon's displeasure. "Return him to his cell, for the time being," he ordered, disappointed he had not received a grander response to the pain.

-

John bit his tongue in an effort to stay awake. It had worked the first few times, but the pain no longer kept the darkness at bay. He didn't know if it was simply because of the lack of sleep he had received over the past three days or because of the blood loss.

Glancing down at his left bicep, he eyed the two-inch long gash. It had bled copiously in the moments after Hergon had cut him, but thankfully the blood flow was now down to a trickle. John doubted that it was too serious or that deep, and he had certainly had worse before, but still, he needed to get a bandage over it fast. With his hands still fixed firmly behind his back, however, it would be impossible. He wagered that Hergon had intentionally left his hands in that position. Hergon's sick smile didn't escape John as the man had lowered the knife to his throat. It would be an image that would be staying with him for a long while, haunting all his dreams.

He needed something to do, something to keep him from dozing off. Glancing in Elizabeth's direction, he noticed she was still in shutdown mode, still in the same curled-up position and still murmuring. John decided that in order to do anything productive, he would need the use of his hands. And while he couldn't get the full use of them, he _could _at least put them in a somewhat more favorable position.

Rolling to the ground, John swung his arms under his butt and brought his feet over and through them. It tore at his ribs and recently-injured arm, but at least his hands were now in front of him. And while it wasn't the most graceful of maneuvers, his hands were now able to unlace his shoe. He attempted to tie his shoelace around his arm as a sort of temporary tourniquet, but with his hands bound, he wasn't able to encircle his arm with the string. _Shit. This sucks._

There was nothing jagged with which he could possibly cut his restraints with either. It seemed he was stuck in this position.

John laid his head back against the wall, ready to sleep just come and overtake him. He didn't care anymore. He wasn't going home. And neither was Elizabeth, unless the Klaans decided to be in a charitable mood - which he doubted. There was no way they were going to accept his offer. But then again, if they wanted the information badly enough….

His thoughts were interrupted. Something in the cell was different. Opening his eyes, he immediately searched the cell, half-expecting to see a Wraith. He scanned it a second time: there was the door, still closed, the hallway beyond, Elizabeth in the corner…. That was it. Elizabeth had stopped mumbling to herself and an empty silence had engulfed the room. She now had her head up and was staring at the far wall. But her eyes were lucid; they had lost the hazy quality that had plagued them ever since… the _incident _with Kropol.

"Elizabeth?" John tried cautiously. He hope to receive an answer that wasn't hostile.

Her head snapped around to him, obviously surprised by his presence. She looked as if she had seen him for the first time. Then slowly, a look of recognition dawned on her features. "John?"

He exhaled heavily and a smile played across his features, the first Elizabeth had seen in days.

"You have no idea how glad I am to see you back to being… you," he confessed. Figuring it was now safe to approach her, he slid the short distance over to her side.

"What do you mean? John, what happened?" she asked.

His smile fell from his face, replaced by a look of confusion. "You mean you don't remember?"

"Remember what?" Alarm began to creep up in her. Elizabeth didn't like not knowing what was going on. It made her feel like she wasn't in control, like she was weak.

John fumbled for the words. He didn't want to tell her what had happened, what had nearly happened to her. He didn't know if she could take it, but mostly he didn't know if he could take telling her. Her subconscious was probably blocking out the memories, and for good reason.

"Oh, uh… nothing really," he tried, but as soon as she gave him 'the look,' John knew she had him. "Well, what's the last thing you remember?"

Elizabeth squinted in thought. She spoke slowly and deliberately as she tried to recall. "I remember… oh my God, John, what happened to your arm?"

He was annoyed at her, annoyed because here she was, yet again looking out for the well being of her people instead of that of her own. It was so like Elizabeth Weir. Despite himself, he had to grin; she often had that affect on him. Thankful for the opportunity to avoid the subject of the Kropol episode, he answered her. "I, ah, ran into a door? A pointy one?" he tried, hoping that would suffice. When it was obvious by the look on her face that it wouldn't, he continued cautiously. "Hergon took a knife to my arm… well, he was pissed at me, let's just say that." John inwardly winced, knowing what the inevitable question would be.

"What? Why?" As she spoke, Elizabeth ripped of part of the sleeve of her shirt - it was torn anyway - and wrapped it around his arm. She tied it tightly, earning a flinch from John. "Sorry," she offered. "And why on earth is your shoestring unlaced? You know, you should really think about double knotting-"

John stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. "Liz… you really don't remember anything?"

She ceases re-lacing his shoe and looked up into his earnest eyes. The way he had asked her, so softly and delicately…. _Is he afraid I'm going to break or something? _"Please, John, just tell me!" she cried exasperatedly.

John sighed. He didn't want to do this. "I… I was being taken back from the room and… I heard screams… I wasn't sure who it was… well, I knew it was you, but there was this other voice also, and of course since I didn't-"

"John. Please." She noticed his eyes darted around the room as he spoke.

He paused. "Elizabeth, you were almost raped."

Her eyebrows arched in confusion. "What?" she breathed.

"Kropol, he was on top of you when I came in. They made me watch as he hit you… hey, you okay?" He saw as her eyes began to tear up and her mouth was slightly open. She was no longer at him but was instead staring off into space.

"I remember… oh God…" she whispered as she instinctively huddled into a protective ball again.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he assured her. He encircled her with his bound arms and pulled her into a protective embrace. "You're alright. I'm right here."

Memories flooded back into Elizabeth's mind and hit her full force: the hurt, the fear, the pain. Regardless of how hard she tried, she had not been able to get Kropol off of her. Suddenly, the ache from her swollen knee returned with all its might. Remembering the knife pressed to her throat, she instinctively reached a hand to her neck. She felt a rivulet of dried blood caked on her skin. And as she saw her hands, she noticed her hands were stained red with Kropol's blood.

After a few moments, she asked quietly, "What happened to him?" Why had her memory blocked that part out as well?

"I shot him, and he fell on top of you," he explained, matching the volume of her voice with his own, knowing that the experience had terrified her. Hell, it had terrified _him_. "I wish I could have gotten there sooner."

She buried her head into him and began to cry as those scenes replayed in her mind as well. Elizabeth remembered how Kropol had fell slowly, landing hard atop her. The dead weight had been enormous, pinning her down to the floor and trapping her underneath the corpse. She remembered she had panicked and crawled into the corner once she had gotten free, but the memories ended there. Thankfully.

Elizabeth sat there in his arms for what seemed like eternity, just crying. _Why am I crying? I don't cry. _She couldn't afford to show her emotions in her line of work; it meant weakness and weakness meant giving in. But she felt so safe with him there, like nothing in the world could hurt her.

Stifling her sobs, she vowed to stop crying - "suck it up" as Sheppard would say to his team. She wasn't weak; she had never had been and wasn't about to start now. There - she had had her few moments of lamentation, but that was all she allowed herself. Maybe it came from commanding an expedition of mostly military members, but Elizabeth had always felt she needed to stay strong. And now was certainly no exception. Still, she chose to remain tucked away in his embrace, her shelter. She could stay there forever.

Elizabeth was able to piece the rest together on her own. She figured John had been punsihed because he had killed Kropol to save her. "I'm sorry," she confessed.

"Don't be. I'm not." He began to stroke her hair.

"I can't wait until we get out of here."

"Yeah…" John responded sadly. He didn't tell her about his proposal he made to Hergon. If she knew, she would never let him go through with it. She would have insisted on staying with him, and he couldn't have that. John knew he'd never be able to live with himself.

They sat in silence until Elizabeth suddenly spoke. "John, can I ask you… a personal question?"

"Sure, anything."

She chose her words carefully. "Why are you so committed to the safety of others? Why the loyalty?" As soon as she said it, she feared she had been too blunt, be she needed to know. Sure, she had met other military men, but none as loyal as this.

Although she couldn't see his face, she felt his body stiffen at her question. There was no answer for the longest time. She wished she knew what he was thinking at that moment.

Then, unexpectedly, "You read my file. You know what happened," he said almost bitterly, and immediately he wished he hadn't.

Elizabeth pulled away and sat up, looking at him questioningly. Of course she had read his file, just as she had for every member of the expedition. His stuck out because of the supposed 'black mark' against his record - something both Colonel Sumner and General O'Neil had made an issue of. Disobeying a direct order was a crime bordering on sin in the military's book, never mind the fact that he had saved the lives of two Army Rangers. Still, it didn't explain what she needed to know. There was something more to John Sheppard.

"You know about the whole incident in Afghanistan then," he posed.

She nodded in response, waiting for him to continue.

"And you know how I saved the lives of two servicemen."

Again she nodded. Elizabeth could tell by the way he spoke that it was a subject he didn't like to talk about. _Come to think of it, I don't recall him ever bringing it up in Atlantis to anyone._

"I suppose they left the part out about how a third one died, right?" He judged by her silence and the look of shock on her face that they in fact had. He smiled sadly. "Yeah, the military doesn't like that part to get out too much."

"John, what are you talking about?" She had never read this before; it was news to her.

He took a deep breath and prepared himself for the plunge into his past. - a past he had been running from for years. "I had been stationed in Afghanistan for six months and my tour was almost over. In fact, I was supposed to ship out the very next day. Most of the time I would run transport missions, ferrying units of Rangers to and from the line. Occasionally I would get called on to take out an enemy ground target or run a recon mission. Either way, they decided I was pretty damn good, I guess, because I was the head of our squadron. Best pilot in the Force, they said."

Elizabeth noticed he smiled at the memory, and she couldn't help but smile as well. She had never heard him talk of his career before Atlantis; it was obvious he missed what he did. He was staring off into space, his eyes taking on a glassy quality as he recounted the story. He seemed a million miles away.

"Anyway," he continued, "two months before the end of my deployment, this new kid gets assigned to my squad. And I mean _new - _fresh out of the flight school. Second Lieutenant Bobby Lilam, but most of us called him Doogie because he looked like the kid from _Doogie Howser, M.D._. A lot of the guys picked on him, you know, for being new. But I was kind of like a big brother to him I guess, watching his back all the time. He said he didn't have a big brother back home and I never had a family, so it kind of worked out.

"So I took Doogie under my wing. At first, he was an awful pilot. God _awful,_" John said, smiling once again. "But I showed him a few things and soon enough he was flying right there with the best of us. I got him out of a few scrapes here and there and he even saved my ass, too, once. The thing I remember most about Doogie was how he always talked about his girl back home. Said he was going to marry her when he got back, start a family….

"The day before I was supposed to leave for the States, the rest of the squadron and I got word Doogie's chopper had been shot down near a remote village outside Kabul. He had been picking up some Rangers who had been on a recon mission when an RPG had hit the rear rotor. Intel suggested he and the two Rangers were taken hostage."

Elizabeth was beginning to see where this was headed, but she didn't know if she wanted to hear it.

He took a deep breath and continued. "Two of our squad members, including myself, were dispatched to search the area where they were believed to be taken. The only problem was that area was the size of Rhode Island. It could have taken days to search. So I went to our CO and told him I had estimated their location from the flight path, wind direction, fuel consumption, etc., but the bastard told me to continue the search as ordered. Actually, he specifically ordered me _not _to go to those coordinates. It was almost as if he didn't _want _to find Doogie.

"The next day, my wingman and I continued the search, wasting time we could have spent on a rescue mission. It was driving me crazy: sitting there, knowing where he probably was and not being able to do anything about it. I had two Marines with me, as usual, and I quickly pitched a plan to them. They agreed without question, so I made up my mind. I told my wingman I saw fuel leaking from the starboard side of his helo and ordered him back to base. Of course, there was no fuel leak…. The way I figured it, there would be repercussions, and I didn't want anyone involved that didn't need to be. It was bad enough I had the two Marines mixed up in it, but at least I could claim I had ordered them to go along with my plan. In any case, I turned toward the projected coordinates and turned my radio off. As soon as base saw what I was doing on radar, I knew they would try to stop me.

"Sure enough, about one kilometer from where I had calculated, sat a small building. It was in the middle of nowhere with no other structures in sight. It had to be the spot. I guess the rebels heard us because they came out firing with machine guns. I took them out with my machine gun and shacked the two outer building with a couple of sidewinders. After I set our chopper down, the two Marines ran in to get Doogie and the Rangers. I could hear a firefight over the radio. Apparently, they didn't want to give up their prized American hostages without a fight. One of the Marines told me to power up, they would be coming in hot.

"Several minutes later, the Marines came running out of the building with two bodies being dragged behind them. They were firing wildly at an unseen enemy still inside the building. When they got in with the two Rangers, I could see they had taken a few hits themselves. But more importantly, I didn't see Doogie."

Elizabeth saw how it pained him to tell her. His voice became more strained with every word.

"I wanted to go back in there for him, but I had four badly wounded men on board who needed serious medical attention. So I left him. I left Doogie."

She now saw his hands shaking. _Were those tears in his eyes? _Elizabeth offered her support by placing a hand on his shoulder, but he didn't even notice. Instead, he blinked back the tears and continued on.

"We took off, taking heavy fire as we left. We were hit pretty good, but I was able to keep it together until we got back to base. My plan was to drop off the wounded and head back immediately to get Doogie, alone if I had to, but I was stopped on the tarmac. My CO came out right there with base security and threw me in the brig. I spent an entire fucking week in there, Elizabeth, while I could have been out there getting his ass home."

He paused and looked at the woman in front of him. John wondered why he was opening up to her. What made her different from anyone else? He had never opened up to anyone in his life, yet here she was, someone had had met only months ago but had felt like he knew for his entire life…. Her eyes told him it was alright to continue, that he could trust her.

"When they finally released me for my trial back in the States, I learned they had found Doogie's body. I saw the pictures… he was tortured to death… I couldn't even recognize him…." The words got caught in hid throat but he went on. "I had my trial - actually, it wasn't much of a trial. I had been guilty if disobeying a direct order. It took them only two days to convict me. But they said since I had saved the lives of the two Rangers, they offered me a choice: twelve months in Leavenworth or a transfer to Antarctica where I would be out of their hair. Antarctica was the only place I could still fly, so there I went, to escape it all. I couldn't face anyone or anything I knew; I had to start over. Antarctica was the furthest place away from the where I had set up my life, if you can even call it that. So that's how I ended up at McMurdo: not because I disobeyed and order and saved the lives of two servicemen, but because I had left behind another.

"Later, I found out why my CO hadn't authorized a rescue mission. It turns out those Rangers weren't even supposed to be there. They were running a covert recon sortie for the U.S. government that even our allies didn't know about. Black ops. Doogie didn't know, he was just their ride. Hell, _he_ shouldn't even have been there. He was just a _kid_, fresh out of flight school, as green as green could get. But the goddamn desk jockeys up in Washington didn't care. They weren't the ones on the line.

"The worst part, though, was the funeral. Having to lie to his family, to his future wife, and tell them how their son and fiancé had died during a classified mission and how I wasn't able to disclose the details. It was all bullshit.

"I was screwed up after that. Depression, anxiety, you name it. I got over it… somehow… but I still miss him so much. He was like a brother to me; he looked up to me and I failed him. When he needed me most, I failed him." John put his head in his hands and rubbed his forehead, almost as if her was trying to bore the memories out of his head.

Elizabeth was silent; she didn't know what to say, what she _could _say. It was obvious he _hand't _gotten over it. She would like to tell him that it would all be alright, but she knew he had heard those words before. They were usually just an empty promise and nothing more. The best thing for him right now, she figured, was to let him know she was there for him. And where words failed, sometime simple human contact could soothe the soul. Pulling him into a tight hug, just as he had done for her, she rocked him gently back and forth. The sound of sniffling reached her ears, and she assumed John was shedding a few tears for his lost friend. She had never seen him like this; gone was the fearless, steadfast soldier, replaced by a lost little boy who just wanted some assurance that it was all going to be okay.

Listening to his story had certainly explained a lot to Elizabeth: his loyalty to his team, his distrust of authority, and his complete disregard for the chain of command. She couldn't blame him.

John closed his eyes as his head rested on Elizabeth's shoulder. _Why had I just told her all that? _They were his inner demons, not hers, and he didn't want to burden her with their terror. It was _his_ bane, _his _curse. John thought he had put them to rest long ago, yet here they were, haunting him again. He had made a promise to himself to never again leave anyone behind if it was in his power to do so, and this in this situation, it was in his power to do so. No, he wouldn't let what happened to Doogie - and to Colonel Sumner - happen to Elizabeth. That was, of course, if Hergon decided to accept his offer.

They sat that way for several minutes until Elizabeth spoke. "Is that what you're doing those nights when I catch you on the northern pier? Thinking about Doogie?"

He nodded. _Thinking about what I had done is more like it, _he thought to himself. He was on Atlantis, galaxies away from home, yet he still could not escape the nightmares. He wondered if it was some sort of cruel punishment to be reliving the Doogie's experience, only this time Elizabeth was with him. _Why? She had nothing to do with it. _Hopefully, though, she would be gone soon, safe back at Atlantis. He couldn't help but wonder if the same fate that befell his friend would befall him.

"It's not your fault, you know," she explained calmly.

"I know," he said with a nod. And he did, really he did, but he couldn't shake that feeling of guilt, that there was something more he could have done.

They sat there in each other's arms, each in silence. But it was enough for them, to have someone to hold them and tell them it would be just fine. Each fulfilled the other's need, the simplest of needs: to know someone else was out there. Together they sat until they fell asleep.

TBC

* * *

Gasp What, no cliffie? What has gotten into me:) Anyway, it really irritated me how the show didn't go into his backstory at all during the entire season 1, or into any character's for that matter. There's just so much there, so I took some liberties of my own. :) Hope you liked.


	15. Letting Go

**Strange Bedfellows**

**A/N: **The turning point chapter! Yay! Sort of. In this chapter, I switch back and forth between Atlantis and the planet Klaan. I hope it's not too confusing. Anyway, grab your tissue boxes because I decided to be really sappy. Chocolate and Valentine's Day will do that to you. :)

bluelikethat: Wow, you are absolutely right. I didn't even catch that; thanks for the tip. I'll see if I can sneak that into a later chapter.

**Spoilers: **Tiny one for Hot Zone.

**Chapter 15: Letting Go**

It had been three days since anything of interest had happened - _although gettingsliced in the arm doesn't exactly qualify as interesting, _John Sheppard added to himself. In that time he and Elizabeth had remained in the cell with no interaction with Hergon or the Klaans. Their only visitor had been Tiny who had twice brought them a strange looking broth that Sheppard guessed qualified as food in the Klaans' culture. Of course, Tiny hadn't enjoyed bringing his captives any sort of relief or comfort, but Dr. Weir supposed Hergon had figured out dead prisoners were no good to him.

The broth, or what remained of it after Tiny had 'accidentally' spilled some of the bowls' contents in transit, tasted awful. They both smelled its putrid stench wafting in from down the hallway before they saw it, and when they did finally see it, they wished they hadn't. It was a greenish-brown color with chunks of God-knows-what in it. John imagined if every repulsive taste in the world was combined into one item, this would be it. Even Elizabeth agreed; she would gladly take her recently maligned Powerbars over this slop. But they had not eaten in days, and it would be this slop that kept them alive for the time being.

John downed his quickly, practically chugging it so as to have the awful taste in his mouth a short of a time as possible. Plus, he was starved. _It's no turkey sandwich, but beggars can't be choosers, right? _His actions earned him a disgusted look from Elizabeth who hadn't touched hers yet.

"What?" he asked. "It does a body good."

She looked like she was going to throw up.

"Come on, it's not nearly half as bad as it looks," he lied.

"It looks like shit."

"Okay… then it tastes exactly how it looks," he joked, but her unamused glare revealed she didn't appreciate his honesty. "Please, Liz. Eat something."

"Fine, but when we get home, you're buying me dinner."

"Deal." He smiled at the thought of taking her out to dinner, even if 'out' was still within the confines of Atlantis. But his smile quickly vanished as he remembered he wouldn't be going home. This would probably be the closest thing to a dinner date he would get with Elizabeth.

He watched her, amused, as she held her nose, closed her eyes, and quickly poured the contents of the bowl down her throat. After swallowing, she held still, not daring to move for fear of some sort of reaction. When none came, she declared it safe to sit back against the wall. John was entertained by her melodramatic antics.

"You know," she said after giving her stomach a few moments to settle down, "Rodney would probably love this, considering how he likes hospital and airline food. Remind me to Doggy Bag some for him."

His eyes lowered to the ground once more as the thought of never seeing his friends again crossed his mind. No, they were more than friends. They were his family, his only in his entire life. Since coming to Atlantis, he had felt appreciated and respected. And for the first time ever, John Sheppard had felt like he _belonged._

Elizabeth didn't miss the look of despondency play across his features. She wondered why he had become so glum all of a sudden. Wasn't he the one who had told _her _everything was going to be okay, that they would get out of this wretched place soon enough? _He _was supposed to be the confident, optimistic one, and now…. She placed the thought in the back of her mind. Perhaps he was still upset over Doogie.

The remainder of the days passed without incident, leaving them in a state of limbo and uncertainty. John figured Hergon was mulling over the decision whether or not to let Elizabeth go. He still hadn't told her. He wondered how she would react if it worked in her favor.

Luckily for him, though, John had used the time to regain some of his strength and energy. The bleeding from his arm had stopped, thankfully. They had both spent the majority of the time sleeping, each in shifts. Elizabeth had let John sleep longer and of course he had caught her each time. Some part of him wished she hadn't let him sleep; each night he had the same dream of her being fed upon by a Wraith.

Finally, on the third day without any activity, they had their first real guest. Unfortunately, that guest was Hergon.

As the man walked up to the entrance of the cell, John tried to read his features for any clues as to his decision. There were none; his face was stone.

Hergon didn't say anything for the longest while and it was driving them insane. John was pretty sure he could handle hearing what would be their ultimate fate, but sitting there, just waiting for it was intolerable. He stood up defensively and was about to confront Hergon, but the Klaan commander spoke first.

"Major Sheppard, you'll be pleased to hear we have decided to agree to your deal. You leave as soon as we can retrieve your gear." He walked away, with a hint of defeat to his step.

John was left staring after him, his mouth slightly agape. Did he really just hear what he thought he had? Inside he had always hoped Hergon would accept his offer, but no part of him ever truly believed he would. Was this some kind of ploy? A ruse? If so, he for the life of him couldn't figure out why. Apparently, the information they sought was invaluable to them.

Elizabeth was even more confused than John was. "John, what's he talking about? What 'deal?'"

He turned to her with a genuine smile. "We're getting out of here," he said, almost not believing he had actually uttered those words. It was the truth - the partial truth, but the truth nonetheless. They _were _getting out of there, only his leave would be temporary while hers permanent.

"What?" she breathed, rising slowly to her feet. She wanted to believe it, wanted _so badly _to believe it, but after all that had happened, how could she? But looking into John's eyes as he held her hands, she knew instantly he was telling her the truth. She was going home.

Elizabeth encircled him with her arms, hugging him tightly with joy. He returned her gesture just as enthusiastically. He was happy for her, happy that she could finally kiss this hellhole goodbye. But he would never see her again, and that was enough to tear his heart in two.

After several moments, Elizabeth made to pull away, but John kept her in his embrace, not able to let go. She wasn't alarmed by the act, only puzzled. When they finally did separate, his eyes were downcast, baffling her even more. _Isn't he anxious to finally leave this place? _she thought.

"John, what's wrong?" she asked, genuinely concerned.

He looked like he wanted to tell her something, something important, but couldn't find the words. John opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Then, finally, "Elizabeth… I -"

They were interrupted by the sound of the door opening and an armada of Wraith entering. There had to be at least ten of them. They were accompanied by a handful of humans as well, including Hergon. John spotted the gear he requested being towed by two of the humans near the back of the group.

"Now if you're both quite ready," Hergon said, indicating they should step out of the cell. Cautiously, they did so. They were led out of the compound and flanked by no less than two Wraith on each side. With John's hands still bound in front of him, there wasn't much he could do anyway.

As they exited the outpost, the sunlight hit there eyes. After over a week in a dark, cold prison, the sudden contrast in atmosphere was a welcome change, even if the light did temporarily stun them. Although John had told her of their location - that they weren't on a Hive Ship - she still wasn't fully prepared to see it with her own eyes. It was indeed the planet Klaan: the same trees, the same bushes… did she see the same village in the distance?

After walking a few hundred meters, Elizabeth turned and looked at the complex from which they had came. From being on the inside, she had guessed it was mammoth, but it was barely visible from the outside. The structure was built _into _a rock formation, which explained its low temperature, and blended perfectly into its surroundings - probably a Klaan design. In fact, she guessed if one were not looking for it, one could easily pass it by. Anyone could be standing right on top of it and still not know he or she was on the doorstep of a Wraith outpost.

They walked for miles under the scorching sun, roughly in the direction of the village they had initially visited for the trade negotiations. No one uttered a word the entire time except for the occasional inquiry from John as to the condition of Elizabeth's knee. She noticed he seemed even more distant than usual, and that he had grown more morose than when they had been in their cell. She also caught him intentionally avoiding her questioning gaze.

The pace was grueling. After several miles, Elizabeth and John began to lag behind, unable to keep up with the lead group of a Wraith and two Klaans. This only earned them a shove from behind from Tiny and Number Two which caused them to stumble several times. John's protests that Elizabeth's knee was injured only succeeded in quickening the pace.

Finally, after hours and what Elizabeth estimated to be close to eight miles of marching, they arrived at the Stargate. Exhausted, she and John collapsed to the ground while the unaffected Wraith and Klaans stood watch. Not wanting to waste time, however, Hergon strode quickly up to John, grabbed his arm, and hauled him to his feet. The pressure on his arm wound was excruciating. _Which is probably why he did it, genius, _John added silently.

Hergon practically dragged him over to the DHD. "Dial the Gate," he commanded.

"I'm going to need my radio and my IDC device," John replied coolly. It was part of his terms; _they had better have them._

Smiling knowingly, as if he somehow hoped to slip one past John, he called out to one of his men to bring him the gear. He inspected both pieces of equipment carefully.

John rolled his eyes. _It's not like you know what to do with them, you jackass._

Satisfied they couldn't be used against him in any way, Hergon handed the radio and GDO to John. Sheppard looked them over thoroughly, making sure neither was damaged. He noticed his radio's earpiece was missing. _Great_…. That meant everything he said to Atlantis would be heard by ten Wraith and six Klaans over the radio's speaker. To make matters worse, the group was situated around the DHD; they had a perfect view of the dialing device and therefore would have a perfect view of Atlantis's address once dialed. John made a mental note to keep the GDO device hidden when he entered his personal code.

Taking a deep breath, he dialed the Gate.

-

Atlantis was in complete disorder, and in the thick of it was Lt. Ford. Without Dr. Weir there to run it, the place was a mess. Daily tasks weren't being completed, briefings weren't taking place, the scientists were complaining about the lack of resources, the military contingent was concerned over the lapse in security, and to top it all off, they still had a food shortage problem that was growing worse by the day. Try as he might, Aiden was no Dr. Weir.

He slumped down in her chair, ready to address the problem of off world activities. Every since the Major and Dr. Weir had gone missing, Gate travel had been temporarily suspended, at least until matter at home had been resolved first. But with their food supply running low, they would have no choice but to soon Gate to another world. _Maybe Athos has fields of wheat or something, _he thought. _Teyla should know. I'll ask-_

His thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on the open door. It was Rodney. His eyes shifted cagily around the room as if he wasn't sure if he was supposed to be here or not. He looked uncomfortable to say the least.

"McKay, come in," Ford greeted. The young lieutenant had noticed that the astrophysicist was unusually quiet the past few days, no doubt still upset from the recent loss of his friends. He had no idea the scientist was so sensitive. McKay no longer worked tirelessly in his lab, endlessly tinkering with Ancient technology. He now spent most of his days in his room, alone. In fact, he barely spoke to anyone. He always ate alone in the mess hall and made it a point to avoid the control room and Jumper bay. Ford guessed those places hit too close to home; they reminded him of his lost friends.

Rodney timidly walked in the room and up to the chair in front of Dr. Weir's - Aiden's - desk. He made a motion to sit down but changed his mind half way through the action, unsure of himself.

Ford eyed him suspiciously. "You can sit, you know. That's what chairs are for."

Rodney exhaled heavily and sat. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice barely audible. "It's just that… well, Teyla and I have been thinking - well, it was mostly my idea but Teyla did have some input and she fully agrees with me-"

Aiden rolled his eyes. At least that part of him hadn't changed. "McKay…" he prompted the doctor to continue.

"Right. Sorry. Anyway, some of us have been thinking: what of we return to M4H-213 with a small team and take some energy readings. I mean, who knows? Maybe it could point us in the right direction, maybe even lead us to where the Major and Dr. Weir were taken to-"

Ford stopped him with his hand. This was going to be hard to say. He couldn't even believe he was going to say it. "Rodney, we tried. We did everything we possibly could to get them back… but there's just no way we're ever going to find them. They could be across the galaxy by now."

McKay stared at him skeptically. _Ford is starting to sound like Bates, for crying out loud._

"Look," Ford continued, "I miss them, too-"

"You're wrong. We_ haven't _done everything just yet. All I'm asking is for is a small team - hell, I'll go by myself if I have to - and a couple of hours. It's a long shot, I admit, but we can't just sit here twiddling out thumbs and dancing jigs like nothing happened. Could you live with yourself knowing there was something you could have done?" he pleaded.

Ford put his head in his hands and sighed. _No, _he thought, _I couldn't. McKay's right. _"Okay, fine. But-"

The sound of the high pitched klaxons drowned out his voice. Both he and McKay rushed into the control room, McKay's self-implemented avoidance of the area temporarily forgotten.

"Unscheduled off world activation," Grodin dutifully announced as they approached him. His look of shock matched there own; there had been no Gate activity for almost a week now. Upon hearing the commotion, both Dr. Beckett and Teyla had made their way to the control room as well, curious as to what was happening.

"Raise the shield," Ford instructed. With their luck, it was probably the Genii or some other culture that was pissed off at them for God-knows-what.

Grodin did as instructed while McKay made his way over to his laptop.

"Any idea who it is?" Ford asked, voicing what was on all their minds.

"Just a second…" Rodney replied, typing in a few commands. He found the screen he was looking for… at least he thought it was the screen he was looking for. _No, that can't be right_…. McKay refreshed the screen, but the same information appeared. _It's probably Kavanaugh, playing his idea of a clever joke on us all. Or Zelenka. I bet it's him. He always-_

"McKay," Ford interrupted his thoughts. Everyone was staring at him with similar expressions, curiosity and anticipation registering on their faces. Ford cocked an eyebrow. "Who is it? Is there an IDC?"

McKay swallowed, the realization dawning on his that this wasn't a joke. "Yes," he breathed. "Yes there is." He looked Ford squarely in the eye. "It's Major Sheppard."

-

He had dialed the Gate, watching out of the corner of his eye as no less than two Wraith and two Klaans observed the coordinates he selected. _So much for not telling them the location of Atlantis, _he thought. John knew it didn't matter, however; as long as they didn't have his IDC code, they couldn't lower the shield on Atlantis, which was why he was careful to keep the GDO device hidden as he entered his code: 3195347.

John waited a few moments before trying his radio, putting it on VOX. He wanted nothing more than to say, "Hey, anyone there? It's me, John!" but his training kicked in. He instead cleared his throat and formally said, "Atlantis, this is Major Sheppard. Do you copy?"

Atlantis was in an uproar. Papers flew in the air in celebration as they all realized at least one of their own was still alive. McKay had picked up Teyla and was spinning her around (before he realized he wasn't fit enough to be doing so and placed her back down), Grodin was standing and cheering, the military members were all clapping at the sound of their boss's voice… even Bates and Kavanaugh each cracked a smile. At any other time, Ford would try to squelch the pandemonium, but he, too, was just as excited to hear his CO's - his friend's - voice over his radio. He had to restrain himself from screaming like a little girl.

The lieutenant put on his best senior officer face and replied, his radio on VOX as well so everyone could share in the good news. "Major, this is Atlantis, be advised you are on VOX. We read you loud and clear, and let me just say it's good to hear your voice, sir. Is Dr. Weir there with you?"

"Yeah, she's right here next to me, Lieutenant," Sheppard replied. He could here another burst of cheers erupt over the radio and wished he was there to see it. John couldn't keep a smile from forming on his face.

By now the Gate room was filled to capacity with nearly all the members of Atlantis eagerly awaiting the return of two dearly missed colleagues. Ford had to shout over the applause and cries of joy. "Sir, we've lowered the shield. You're all clear to come through." He covered his mouth piece and shouted to Beckett to get a medical team assembled in the Gate room, just in case.

"Copy that, Lieutenant." John walked back over to where Elizabeth was sitting and being closely guarded by Wraith Number Two. She had heard the entire conversation and laughed at everyone's enthusiasm. _Everyone except John, _she noted, wondering what it meant. She allowed him to help her to her feet and guide her to the Gate. Elizabeth had never liked Gate travel. Somehow the thought of being chopped up into tiny pieces of energy and being reassembled light years away thoroughly disturbed her, but now she couldn't wait to walk through the event horizon.

John cast a knowing look to Hergon. The Klaan leader didn't entirely trust him, however, and ordered the Wraith to take aim at the two prisoners. Just in case the Major tried anything… funny.

Elizabeth immediately noticed ten Stunners being raised and pointed in their direction and instinctively started in alarm. She looked to John for an explanation, but he didn't react to their presence. In fact, she dared to think he had expected the action.

"John, what's going on?" she asked. Why did she suddenly feel like she shouldn't walk through the Gate, like something was suspiciously… wrong?

He stopped her just before the Gate and turned her to him with a hand on her arm. There was so much he wanted to tell her: how he had enjoyed every minute of time spent with her, especially their covert late night ice cream feasts, how she had made his a better person, a better man…. _God, she's beautiful, _he thought. She had to go through the Gate. There were people who needed her more than he did. The scientists, the military, the Athosians… Simon. _I'm such a fool, _he thought. How could he ever hope that there was anything between them when she had Simon? He had no one. _He _was no one, just another expendable grunt who could be replaced. Elizabeth, though… she was the flawless leader they all needed.

John stood staring at her, her hands in his, trying to figure a way to voice what he wanted to say to her. Elizabeth remained silent, expecting.

He had insisted on coming to the Gate not only to enter his IDC, but to say goodbye to her as well. Now, however, when the time was actually upon him, he realized he didn't know how. John realized he didn't even _want _to; he couldn't bring himself to do it. It would be easier for them both if she simply stepped through the puddle without so much as a look back.

Elizabeth cocked her head and smiled. He would miss that smile. "What is it?" she asked.

John smiled himself, one full of sadness and regret, but also filled with a sense of responsibility and duty. "Nothing," he replied with a small shake of his head. He walked her the remaining few feet to the surface of the puddle and encouraged her to walk through.

Slowly, she closed the distance to the shimmering blue surface of the pool that would take her back home. As she was about to step through, she paused, suddenly unsure of herself.

John watched her slip slowly away from him, soon to be forever gone from his life. He then saw her stop right before entering the even horizon. _No… no, no, no_…. _What is she doing? _He started to panic. If she didn't go now, she could lose the opportunity. _What if the Klaans change their minds?_

Attempting to make the illusion as believable as possible, John walked up and stood next to her. The Wraith raised their Stunners higher. He prayed they weren't going to shoot.

Once again, Elizabeth became more confused at their act of hostility, but didn't link it to John's increasing proximity to the Gate. _Something is definitely wrong, _she decided, looking to John for his reaction.

This time he completely ignored the blatant threat from the Wraith. Instead, he reached a hand up and brushed his thumb gently across her cheek, just as he had when she had been hurt. "It's okay," he assured. "I'll be right behind you."

Elizabeth nodded. Though her strong sense foreboding had not eased, she trusted him. She had trusted him ever since coming to Atlantis with her very life, and there was no reason not to now. She offered him one last reassured smile and slid through the even horizon.

He watched her go. That was it; she was gone. It was harder than he had thought it would be, letting go. He reached a hand up and touched the cool, pristine surface of the puddle. Here he was, merely inches away from home, from safety…. If he just stepped through…. John immediately expelled the thought from his mind. The Wraith would be on his heels and would be in Atlantis before they could raise the shield. The deaths of hundreds of people would be on his hands, not to mention that the safety of Earth would be jeopardized as well. This simple matter of not stepping forward a mere inch or so was the single hardest decision of his life.

Elizabeth stepped through the other side of the wormhole and was immediately greeted by what looked to be the entire population of the city applauding. She could not help but laugh as a torrent of relief washed over her. She was home.

Ford, Teyla, Rodney instantly rushed down the stairs from the control room and ran to her side, followed closely by Beckett and his team of medics.

"Ma'am, it's good to have you back," Ford greeted honestly. He didn't know if he could take one more day of running this place.

"It's good to be back, Lieutenant," she replied just as sincerely.

"The city had become a 'zoo' since you have left, Doctor," Teyla told her, struggling with her newly-learned Earth word.

"Yes, I can see that," she observed with a grin. There would be a lot of work to be done once Beckett, who was now helping her sit on a gurney, released her from the infirmary. Elizabeth looked forward to getting back into the routine of things.

"Where's Sheppard?" McKay asked suddenly.

The words hit Elizabeth like a ton of bricks. Her heart stopped cold and the room seemed to die with it. McKay's question seemed to echo in the now silent room. _Hadn't he been right behind me? _she thought.

Ford looked from the still active wormhole to her. It was obvious from her look of shock she didn't know either. "Major," he keyed his radio once more. "This is Ford, come in."

On the other side of the event horizon, John looked at his radio. He didn't want to answer it; it was just making things more difficult than they had to be. But he supposed he owed them, owed _her_, an explanation at the very least. He didn't want his friends to worry needlessly.

"This is Sheppard," he responded reluctantly. He knew what was next.

"Sir, the shield is still down. You're still good to come through."

John took a deep breath and rubbed his hands over his eyes. "I'm not coming through, Lieutenant."

It seemed as if all motion in the entire city stopped at once. Everyone stopped breathing as hearts were caught in throats and pens dropped in disbelief.

Elizabeth's shock quickly evolved into dread. Suddenly, it dawned on her: _the deal, the deal Hergon had talked about. Oh God_…. _John's staying. That's his part of the deal, to stay so that I can go_…. She leapt from her position of the gurney, ignoring Doctor Beckett's protests, and made her way to Ford.

"I'm sorry, sir?" the lieutenant asked. "I thought-"

Aiden didn't get to finish his statement because at that moment a very agitated Dr. Weir stormed up to him and wrenched the radio from his hands. "John Sheppard, you step through that wormhole right now!" she directed. There was no way this was happening. No, they had gotten through the ordeal together; he couldn't just abandon her like this.

John sighed. She was only making this harder on herself and on him. "Elizabeth, I can't…." Why couldn't she see he was doing this for her?

"No, John. Do it _right now_."

"Liz, I'm sorry-"

"Dammit, Major, that's an order!"

John paused. He could hear the death-like silence that had overtaken Atlantis, a stark contrast to the jubilation of mere minutes ago. He wished he could say goodbye to them all, wished he could tell McKay that he thought hospital food wasn't that bad either, wished he could tell Teyla to go easy on Ford in their sparring practices, and wished he could tell the lieutenant that he would make a fine, upstanding commander someday - but he couldn't. He _could_, however, say goodbye to the one person her cared the most for.

"Liz, I need to tell you something," he began softly. He didn't care that there were hundreds of people listening to him on both sides of the Gate.

"John, please don't…." She dropped her assertive tone and was now pleading with him. Tears began to flow from her eyes.

"Please, just listen." It was hard enough for him already. His thoughts drifted back to the time the nanovirus was loose in the city. He had never apologized to her for undermining her authority, something that had hurt her very deeply. "I want… I want you to know that I've never doubted you, not once. And I'm sorry for all those times I made you feel like I did. There's no one better or more qualified to run this expedition. You're perfect, Elizabeth Weir," he said with a smile. And he meant it in more ways than one. No, this wasn't the most difficult decision of his life. It was the easiest one he ever made.

"Take care of her, McKay," he said. John knew the two had grown to be close friends, like brother and sister. And despite his bumbling nature, John trusted him.

"You got it," Rodney tried, but the words got caught in his throat and came out as a barely audible whisper. He turned away from the group, hiding the moisture that was beginning to collect in the corner of his eyes.

Sensing he was about to leave her for good, Elizabeth began to instinctively run toward the Gate. Matter could only travel one way through a wormhole, but that little fact didn't seem to bother her at the moment. She was determined to find a way back to him.

Ford and Teyla saw what she was about to do and blocked her path. Elizabeth tried to dodge them, but the two restrained her. She struggled against them, but it was useless.

John could hear the tussle over the radio, and it was killing him. He had to break the connection. Closing his eyes, he reached out once more to the even horizon. It was almost like touching her; it was his last connection to her. "Bye, Liz…" he muttered.

_No, this can't be happening, it's not happening, it can't be happening, _she thought. Elizabeth was hysterical now, fighting with renewed strength against the two people holding her back. She was screaming madly at the Gate.

"John, no! You can't! Don't go, John!"

He couldn't listen to this anymore. It was breaking his heart. John turned his back to the puddle and began walking to the DHD.

"John, _please_!" she begged, still yelling at the top of her lungs as warm tears cascaded down her face.

John reached the dialing device and looked at the large red button that would forever cut him off from his friends, his _family, _his home, from her. He closed his eyes and bit his lip. "Don't come back for me," he uttered quietly. And with that he disconnected the Gate.

Elizabeth watched in horror as the puddle vanished in front of her eyes. She sank to the floor, sobbing. Hundreds of eyes bored into the back of her, but she didn't care. He was gone, and that was all that mattered.

Teyla and Ford released their hold on her and backed away, giving her some space. Beckett made a move to gather her up and secure her on a gurney, but McKay stopped him with his arm. "Just… give her some time," he asked. "Please."

Beckett nodded reluctantly. He couldn't believe what he and the other inhabitants had just witnessed. They all had just lost a dear friend, a good person. He still could not come to terms with the fact that Sheppard would no longer be there to question his advice, to disobey his orders… or to boost his confidence when he needed it the most. He was gone.

Teyla stared at the now inactive Gate. A special mentor, a tutor, and a fellow leader was gone. Who would spar with her with the Athosian staffs? Who would explain to her the intricacies of football? Who would be there to support her when a leader needed encouragement? He was gone.

Ford couldn't look at the Stargate any longer. He didn't know if it had actually sunken it yet that his friend, his brother, his CO, his fellow troublemaker was no longer going to be pitching him ideas for the next prank, for the next wager, or for the next strategy. He was gone.

Rodney closed his eyes, not wanting to face the grim reality that was now upon them. He would no longer be able to pester his friend with "touch this," trade insults with him, share his stash of Powerbars with him, or earn a good ribbing over his hatred of citrus-flavored food from him. Rodney would miss John, more than he realized he would. He was gone.

Most of the expedition members began to file out of the room, sensing their leader needed to be alone. Her close friends, however, stayed at a distance to support her. They all watched Elizabeth wept openly in the middle of the floor. It was the only sound in the entire complex. If anyone had listened closely, they would have heard her murmuring "don't leave me" until her voice became hoarse.

He was gone.

TBC

* * *

OMG, that was so sad, even for me to write. Cry.Yes, this was the big something I told you all was coming. And look, no cliffie! Again! Those couple of line of Grodin's were my little tribute to him. :( Carson will get a few more lines here and there, so don't worry Beckett fans. I'll try not to butcher the accent. Review please! 


	16. Found Out

**Strange Bedfellows**

**A/N: **200+ reviews, wow!Thanks everyone. And sorry for making everyone cry, that really wasn't my intention. I really wasn't expecting that, for sure. ManyK, you are the lucky winner, the 200th reviewer! Yay! Sorry, fresh out of new cars to give away this time. :)

These next two chapters I couldn't get the way I wanted to get them, so they'll have to do. We're on the home stretch now, boys and girls. You'll find out about the Klaans' plan soon, too.

Okay, I can't write a Scottish accent, so when you're reading Beckett's lines, just read with an accent in your head, lol. I couldn't resist giving him some stuff to say. He gets more later, too. In fact, he's somewhat instrumental in... oh, damn, I've said too much. :)

madabouterangelharrypotter: Hmm... good thinking. ;) I won't say any more.

miera: Sorry if I confused you. The reason Shep didn't do that didn't have to do with his deal at all. He would have gladly broken his deal for the reasons you mentioned, imho. The reason he stayed was because if he jumped through the Gate, odds are one or even several of the Wraith or at least a bolt or two from their Stunners would have made it through the wormhole before the shield could be raised. And that would mean odds are at least one person could die or get seriously hurt, and he didn't wasnt to be the cause of that. Hope that clears things up!

JennR: You got some of it right!

**Chapter 16: Found Out**

Ford watched as Dr. Weir continued to softly sob on the floor in front of the Gate. Turning around, he noticed the Gate room was nearly empty now, save for the members of Sheppard's team, Beckett and his medical unit, and the few staff members in the adjacent control room. Everyone had gone back to their business; they had all given up. Aiden couldn't believe it.

"Grodin!" he yelled up to the command center.

The Brit was staring off into space, eyes seemingly fixed in the direction of the Gate, as the recent events played through his head. He wished there was more he could do. Peter's head snapped up at Lt. Ford's call.

"Grodin, I want a MALP ready for Gate travel in five minutes. Be ready with the coordinates to M4H-213," Ford ordered, not one to give up easily. He had learned that from his CO. Thinking back to half an hour ago, sitting in Dr. Weir's office, when he _had_ been about to give up… Aiden was ashamedof himself. Had it not been for Rodney of all people, they would all be sitting on their asses, doing nothing.

Peter was taken aback by the lieutenant's sudden and bold request. _Surely the man didn't think he was going back there? _Intent on helping out in any way, however, the scientist did as told.

"Beckett," Ford continued, "take Dr. Weir to the infirmary, make sure she's alright. And someone get Stackhouse to prep a Jumper just in case the MALP gives us an all clear." While it was true that Dr. Weir was now technicallyback in charge of the city, it didn't mean he had to desert the major. Besides, Dr. Weir was in no shape to mount a rescue mission - especially an insane a one as this.

"Aye, lad," Dr. Beckett responded, his Scottish accent thick, "but are you sure you know what you're doing?"

Ford turned to the doctor and looked him squarely in the eye. _Isn't it obvious? _"Going after the major." With that he disappeared into one of the hallways.

Beckett watched the young man stormed off and his brow wrinkled in worry. The lieutenant was determined, he gave him that much, but he hoped the man wasn't getting in over his head. In any case, Carson had orders to comply with. Turning his attention to Elizabeth, he cautiously strode up the woman still on the floor. Placing his hand on her shoulder, she spoke to her in soothing tones while gently trying to ease her up at the same time.

"Up you go, love," he urged. She didn't budge. In fact, she ignored his presence completely, opting to instead continue murmuring "don't leave me" over and over to herself.

Carson frowned. Moving in front of her, he crouched down to her level and looked her in the eyes. The were filled with tears and her face was streaked with rivulets of anguish. "Oh, dear…. Come now, lass, on your feet. We've got to get you well." He pulled again at her shoulder, a little more emphatically this time.

Suddenly, Elizabeth erupted at him. "No!" she screamed. "Leave me alone!" She clutched desperately to John's jacket, not willing to part with the one piece of him she still had.

"Relax, Dr. Weir. We're just trying to help you."

"Go away!" Elizabeth pulled away from his outstretched arm, angry at him for wanting to tear her away from her place on the floor. She just wanted to be alone; couldn't he see that?

Carson motioned for several nurses to come over and assist. "Elizabeth, we're going to have to sedate you if you don't cooperate now," he warned. Once again, he tried to raise her off the floor, but this time she lashed out at him with her foot. Beckett was barely able to dodge the blow. "Quite the grumpy one… all right, have it your way…."

One of the male nurses came around behind her and restrained her while a female one moved in with a needle. Elizabeth struggled, attempting to get free, and succeeded in squirming out of the grasp of the man. Carson, however, was too fast for her. He caught her as she tried to escape, but his efforts only earned him a crushed hand as Elizabeth fought to escape.

"Ah! Bloody hell!" he yelled.

At that moment, the other nurse jabbed the needle into Elizabeth's arm and injected the contents. The effects were almost immediate; in less than thirty seconds she was out cold. In less than sixty, she was on the gurney being wheeled to the infirmary with a very annoyed Dr. Beckett in tow, clutching his hand.

Lt. Ford re-entered the Gate room and made his way up the stairs to the command center. "Grodin, where's that MALP?" he asked as he walked.

"We're just getting it ready now, Lieutenant. I've already looked up the coordinates to M4H-213, we're just awaiting your word."

"Okay, great," Ford mumbled as his mind had already moved on to the next portion of the plan. _This is actually starting to come together. I can do this… just calm down like the major taught you_…._ Where's Rodney, I need Rodney_…. "McKay! Control room! Grodin, dial it up."

Peter selected the proper coordinates and entered them into the control panel as Rodney and Teyla joined them all in the control room. Rodney couldn't suppress his feeling of hope as he positioned the MALP in front of the Stargate using the remote control. Ford's plan was a good one: get the major back while they still knew where he was. He had to be near the Gate still; they couldn't have traveled far. In fact, McKay couldn't help but wonder why he hadn't thought of it. _Tactical stuff, _he dismissed it as. _I'll leave that to the military types._

The wormhole connected and Ford keyed his radio. "Stackhouse, you ready with that Jumper?"

"Yes, sir," was the instantaneous reply from the Jumper bay. "Jumper Two is ready to go with three Marines on board."

"Very good, Sergeant. Stand by."

"Copy that, sir."

Aiden took a deep breath. "McKay, send the MALP."

Nodding, the scientist guided the robot through the open wormhole. It completely disappeared, making a slight slurping noise as it began its journey through subspace. Several seconds later, its return signal was received on McKay's laptop.

"Receiving MALP telemetry," he announced to the others. A small crowd of scientists had gathered around him at his console and were eagerly awaiting the results of the probe. Not pleased at them invading his personal space, he shot them an irritated look, but they refused to budge, eyes still glued to the screen. "We have incoming video feed… and… oh, no…."

"What?" Ford asked as he and Teyla jockeyed for a better position. All they could see were the backs of the scientists' heads.

McKay exasperatedly picked up his laptop and moved away from the throng of people. Plopping it down on another desk nearby, he showed Ford the video. "_That's_ what." Rodney pointed to the screen with an troubled look on his face.

Ford looked at the computer. From its position in front of the Klaan Gate, the MALP's onboard camera picked up no less than eight Wraith standing guard, all holding Stunners. And there was no sign of Sheppard. "God_damn_ it, can't we catch a break once in a while?" he asked to no one in particular. This was bad. As long as the Wraith were there, they couldn't send a team through the Gate to track the major to wherever they were taking him. The Wraith would surely attack them as soon as they set foot on the planet, and a Puddle Jumper would just be blown out of the sky as soon as it materialized on the other side.

"It was a good idea, Lieutenant," Teyla offered. "Perhaps if we wait a little longer-"

"Oh, no," Rodney interrupted. "No, no, no… bad, bad, bad… this is bad, _very _bad…."

They all watched as one of the Wraith walked up to the MALP and aimed its Stunner at the probe. Ford cringed, silently willing the creature not to destroy the machine. If it did, there would be no way to determine if the Wraith were still covering the Gate. Worse, there was nothing they could do. The wormhole was one way;the robotcould not be sent back to Atlantis.

"Please don't shoot the MALP, please don't shoot the MALP…" Rodney muttered repeatedly.

The Wraith shot the MALP. One bolt from the Stunner and all its electrical equipment was off line. The video feed went to black and the connection to the machine was lost. They were all left staring at the blank screen, their one and only hope of finding the major.

Ford sighed. This just wasn't their day. "Cut power to the Gate," he muttered and walked away to his quarters. He needed to think.

-

Several hours later, Rodney walked into the infirmary, intent on checking in on Elizabeth. He spotted her on one of the beds, curled up on her side and facing away from him.

"How's she doing?" he asked Carson softly, not wanting to wake the patient.

The doctor put down a file he was reading. "Well, she's not asleep, if that's what you're worried about." Beckett nodded in her direction, indicating Rodney should take a look for himself.

Creeping cautiously around the corner of the bed, Rodney noticed that Elizabeth was in fact awake. She was staring at the far wall of the room and her hand curled up by her chest. McKay also noted that she still desperately clung to a dark gray and black jacket.

"Hey, Elizabeth," Rodney greeted carefully. "How're you feeling?"

"I wouldn't bother, Rodney," Carson explained grimly. "She hasn't spoken a word since she awoke. We've tried getting her to tell us what happened, but she won't utter a peep."

"Are you sure she's, you know, rational? Can she understand you?"

"As far as I can tell. I think she's just choosing not to answer us. Not that I blame the poor lass, after what she's been through…."

Rodney studied his friend on the cot. She did indeed appear in possession of her faculties but looked deep in thought, her brow furrowed in distress. The only movement was the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed and the occasional blink of her eyes. "How is she otherwise?" he asked, still scrutinizing her.

"Well, she's extremely malnourished and dehydrated, which is to be expected after being gone for a week or so. We've got an IV hooked up to her for that. She also has some cuts and bruises - some minor, some moderate, but nothing that won't heal with time. Her knee is swollen; it appears to be sprained, but other than that, we don't know. She won't tell us what's hurting her."

"What's with the jacket?" McKay asked. It seemed so out of place here in the infirmary; quite a contrast to the stark white hospital sheets and the scrubs Elizabeth had been dressed in. She had a death grip on it, so Rodney assumed it must be important to her.

Carson looked sadly at the scientist, not wanting to answer him. But he supposed he owed the man an explanation. "It was Major Sheppard's," he replied with a touch of sadness. "She had it with her when she came through the Gate and hasn't let go of it since. Almost as if it was her, I don't know...lifeline."

The two continued to watch the immobile patient. They knew, however, that beneath the docile surface was an inner turmoil they couldn't even begin to fathom. Whatever evils she had endured had clearly left their mark. Rodney suspected, however, that his friend was more distraught over the absence of Major Sheppard than her capture by the Wraith and Klanns. It had been no secret how close she and the major were. They had shared an understanding that no one else had, and it was obvious they each felt something for one another. But neither acted on their emotions, not wanting to risk the success of the expedition because of their feelings. Both had put Atlantis first and themselves second.

"Do you mind if I try, Carson?" Rodney asked, indicating his wish to speak with Elizabeth.

"No, not at all. Just don't get your hopes up, lad. I'll be in my office; call me if you need anything."

"Sure, sure." He walked over to Elizabeth and slowly sat down on an empty space of the bed. "Elizabeth… it's me, Rodney." He paused, not sure where to go from here. He was never one for motivational speeches or even comforting ones. Rodney had never been a people person, preferring instead to tinker with technology. People were too complicated. Technology was simple, technology he could understand.

"Hey, uh, listen. We need to know how you're feeling so we can fix you up, get you back on your feet. This place has been a real mess without you. Kavanagh almost blew himself up, actually. The stupid idiot nearly overloaded a naquadah generator, even though I had specifically _told _him…." His voice trailed off as he noticed he wasn't getting anywhere with her. Elizabeth's eyes still remained fixed on the wall. In fact, she hadn't even acknowledged his presence.

Rodney lowered his voice and cast his eyes to the floor. "Look, I know you're upset over John. We all are. But I want you to know that we'll get him back, okay? I don't know how yet, but I'll think of something. After all, I'm Answer Man, right?" Rodney smiled at the thought of his conversation with Sheppard crossed his mind. He shook the memory from his head. "Anyway… just sit tight, get some rest. Ill be back later to check up on you." Just as he had promised John.

He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder before exiting the room. Had he been facing her, McKay would have seen a solitary tear fall down her cheek.

-

The journey back to the Wraith outpost seemed longer than the trip to the Stargate. Thankfully, though, the sun had set and the nighttime air provided some relief from the planet's smoldering heat. John sighed as he looked at the mixed group ahead, behind, and flanking him. Hergon was no fool; the commander had stationed most of his Wraith contingent back at the Gate, just in case Ford decided to send a rescue party. Sheppard hoped that wasn't the case. He had specifically told the lieutenant _not _to come back for him explicitly for this reason. He was still here, Elizabeth was home, and that was that. Nothing more could be done and he surely didn't want any of his teammates risking their lives on his account.

John didn't second guess his decision. Sure it had been hard, harder than expected even, but she was safe now. _Hell, _John thought with a smile, _she's probably already whipping the place back into shape._ _She probably forgot about this entire thing by now. _He knew it wasn't true though. She'd be worried about him and that was his only regret. John pictured the way she looked when she was concerned: her eyebrows drew together, lips slightly parted in apprehension, and her cheeks took on a slightly rosy color. He missed her already, he realized.

The group finally reached their destination many hours after their round trip journey had began. John couldn't wait to sit down and rest his tired feet. Plus, his ribs were killing him and the air inside the cell was nice and cool….

_What the hell? _he thought as they bypassed his cell and continued walking down the hallway. He had assumed they would dump him back in confinement and begin their questioning the next day. Apparently, he had been wrong. He was now being led to the all-too-familiar interrogation room.

John sat himself in the chair, not needed to be forced into it this time. He knew the drill by now. Besides, with Elizabeth gone there was no need to put up a fight. He was dead anyway; it was now only a matter of time.

Hergon walked in and closed the door behind him. Taking a deep breath, John braced himself for round four. _Or is it round five? _He had lost count.

"Major Sheppard. How are you feeling?" the Klaan commander asked with a smile.

"Fantastic," was the muttered reply. He couldn't believe he was going to die by the hands of this pompous ass. He had often pictured himself dying: his chopper shot down behind enemy lines, his controls failing, sending him into a flat spin, even old age if he was lucky… but being killed by an alien version of Saddam Hussein certainly hadn't crossed his mind. And to top it all off, he was being held hostage by a race with the technological savvy of the Flintstones who were in bed with an malicious race of life-sucking leeches. _Beautiful._

"Well, we can soon change that," Hergon responded.

Major Sheppard continued to look at the floor, his thoughts elsewhere. He simply didn't care anymore.

Hergon noticed the man's quiet, defeated demeanor and pounced on it. Kneeling down in front of John, he asked, "What is the matter, Major? No more bravado? No more acts of defiance?" He was so going to enjoy this.

Tempted to spit out a witty retort, John bit his tongue and held back. He had no cause for defiance, no need for resistance now. His eyes remained downcast.

"What do you say we begin then, shall we? After all, it is your turn to uphold your end of the bargain. So we will start off simply: what is your name?"

John rolled his eyes. _You know damn well what my name is, you fuck. _He really wasn't in the mood for this, but knew Hergon was just enjoying tormenting him, playing with his mind. Sighing, he responded. "Major John Sheppard."

"And you currently reside in Atlantis, yes?"

_This is going to be one hell of a long night. _"Yes, Hergon, I currently reside in Atlantis," he answered in a mocking tone. It earned him a blow to the face from one of the human guards.

Hergon smiled. "I suggest you more respectful in the future, Major. Now, what is your age?"

_What the hell do you care? _"Thirty-six."

"What is your post in the City of the Ancients?"

"I'm the ranking military officer, in charge of all the armed forced of the city. I also head the team you met back at the village." His tone was detached, unemotional.

"And what sort of Atlantean technology can you operate?"

He shrugged. "Puddle Jumpers, various scientific instruments, stuff like that." John was intentionally vague, not wanting to give too much away about the city. In fact, he hadn't given away anything at all so far, as Hergon had already knew about the Puddle Jumpers and most likely had no idea what a scientific instrument was if it hit him in the ass.

"So virtually anything in Atlantis, correct?"

"Maybe…" he replied cautiously, wondering what Hergon's true motives behind the question were. The guard slapped across the face once more, apparently not satisfied with his answer.

"Is that a 'yes' or a 'no'?" Hergon probed, slightly annoyed.

"Yes," John answered bitterly through clenched teeth. He reached up with his bound hands to his face and found it slightly wet with blood. _So what else is new_…. He had more cuts and bruises than he could count. What was one more?

Hergon paused a moment in thought. "And what about Dr. Weir?"

John looked up sharply. He had certainly not expected this line of questioning and had thought Elizabeth would be left out of this now that she had been released. "What about her?"

The Klaan commander enjoyed the look of confusion and shock that registered on his captive's face. He had been waiting all day for this. He was about to catch him in a lie and would thoroughly take delight in watching him squirm. "What does she do on Atlantis?" he asked with a feigned air of nonchalance.

A bad feeling began to creep up on Sheppard. He wasn't sure where this was going but sure as hell didn't like it. "Look, I don't know what you think-" Another hit to the head cut him off.

"Answer the question, please," Hergon asked calmly.

John spit out blood on the floor and fought to regain his breath. "She's… a civilian representative… she usually just acts as our negotiator."

"That is all?"

"That's it," John replied all too quickly.

"Mmm." He pretended to ponder the thought. "Then how is it that she _ordered _you to return to Atlantis only several hours ago?"

A heavy silence engulfed the room. John could hear his pulse beating inside his own head and he suddenly felt very hot. _Shit, my radio would have had to been on VOX, wouldn't it? _Evidently, Hergon had been listening intently to his conversation with Atlantis. John had expected no less of the man. He had known that would eventually come and haunt him, but he had had no choice at the time. John remained quiet, not knowing what to say.

"I'll ask again, Major: how is it possible that a mere _negotiator_ can order around the head of military personnel?" Hergon questioned, a smile on his face. He had Sheppard and he knew it.

"Listen, I agreed to answer any questions you had about me, but nowhere in our deal did I agree to discuss Dr. Weir or any other-" The Klaan guard hit him across the face once more and his vision began to swim. John's line sight went gray around the edges and he fought to regain focus.

Hergon spoke more rapidly. "You lied to me, Major Sheppard. You lied to me and therefore our deal is off."

_Not thatyou would have upheld it anyway, _John thought.

It was true; Hergon had always intended to ask about more than just Major Sheppard. It was part of the larger plan, one that involved taking Atlantis. He would relish doing so even more now that his prisoner had lied to him, simply as retribution. Perhaps he would even seek out Dr. Weir and personally kill her himself.

"That must mean Dr. Weir is the leader of Atlantis, correct?" Hergon continued.

John remained silent, determined now more than ever not to tell this bastard a damn thing. It was pointless, really; he knew Hergon now knew the truth. But as a matter of principle John wouldn't say a word.

"Correct?" Hergon asked once again, giving Sheppard one last chance. Still, the major continued to stare at the floor. "String him up," he ordered to his guards. "I have a feeling he will be more talkative tomorrow."

TBC

* * *

Cue scary music Okay, a semi-cliffie. Not so bad, right? Look, Grodin has more lines!

All of you calling for Hergon's head: just be patient! You'll see how it works out. Review:)


	17. The Best Laid Plans

**Strange Bedfellows**

**A/N: **Yes, I'm going to string John up, and no, not in that way! You dirty, dirty people:) Although I do get a nice mental image... ahem. Anyway.

I lost my mojo in this chapter. I'm not happy with this one, but the next one is better, I promise! All you Kavanagh fans are in for something, lol. ;)

**Chapter 17: The Best Laid Plans**

His shoulders hurt like the devil. John had thought that sitting in the cramped cockpit of a Cobra did numbers on his back, but this was infinitely worse. Sore didn't even begin to describe how it felt. _At least I'm feeling _something_ in them, _he thought as he tried to move his arms. They were unresponsive and numb - no surprise considering they had been strung above him. All the blood had rushed out of his tied up limbs. He had now been hanging from the ceiling with his bound hands above him for the past… well, he didn't know for how long. Despite his best efforts, he had dozed off soon after Hergon and the others had left him alone in the interrogation room.

John tried to relieve some of the pressure off of his aching joints, but his toes barely touched the floor. There was no possible way to get any leverage.

At that moment, the door opened. By the sound of the footsteps, John guessed only one individual had entered - a human - but since he was facing the back corner of the room he could not confirm his theory.

"Major Sheppard," the newcomer greeted. It didn't surprise John to learn that the voice belonged to Hergon.

_Great, just who I wanted to see, _he thought resentfully. _This guy must really have it out for me._

Hergon remained silent, not even moving. Not hearing any footsteps, John knew the man was standing in place and studying him. At least he hoped that was all the man was doing; not knowing was driving Sheppard insane.

Finally, the sound of a chair being dragged across the floor reached his ears followed by an expulsion of breath as the Klaan leader sat down, almost as if he had had a long, arduous day. John rolled his eyes. _He should have spent the last few hours in my shoes._

Several beats of silence followed as Hergon decided the best way to approach his prisoner. His previous tactics had proven fruitless. Perhaps a new strategy would yield more promising results.

"Major, you must be wondering by now why we require your help," he began and paused to see if there was a reaction from his detainee.

There was none. John couldn't care less why they wanted him. But curiosity got the better of him and he did wonder why Hergon was being so forthcoming with him. Surely he didn't think because he was about to explain himself that he would get anything out of John? The major remained quiet and listened.

"As you have most likely suspected," Hergon continued, "we need your Ancient gene to complete our assignment. That and the knowledge of the inner workings of your city, which only the leader of Atlantis would have." He practically spit out the last part, disgusted at the treachery of his captive.

John knew it was true; despite his lofty position as head of Atlantis's military contingent, only the head of the expedition would know everything that had been discovered so far. Elizabeth knew more than him and it made him all the more relieved that she was home safe.

Hergon went on. "I have discussed it with my subordinates and we have come to the conclusion that while you did lie about your position, your knowledge as military commander can still prove valuable. And assuming you did not also lie about your possession of the gene, our plan can still be carried out." He did not divulge, however, that if the occasion presented itself, he would seek out Dr. Weir once he had control of Atlantis and take the information he needed by force. And if time permitted, he would also inflict a little revenge as well….

"And what exactly is your plan?" asked John finally, now fully interested. If Hergon was being so open with him, he was going to find out what this was all about.

"To take Atlantis of course. The Wraith will feed upon the entire population of the city until they have had their fill. Then they will use your ability to operate the Ancients' technology to access the location of all the human worlds you have been to so that they may gather their strength, after which they will journey to your planet Earth, where their feeding ground will be forever rich and plentiful."

John inwardly cringed. He had assumed they had wanted Atlantis and Atlantis alone, but evidently he had been wrong. _So, word of Earth traveled quickly. Apparently, the Wraith gossip like a bunch of old ladies. _What little intel Colonel Sumner had provided the Keeper had now spread to the rest of the Wraith population, and they were all eager to reach this new feeding ground.

"And you think by telling me this that I'm now going to _help_ you?" John asked incredulously. Was Hergon out of his mind? _Yeah, telling me that your buddies want to suck the life out of all my friends is _really _going to win me over._

Hergon smiled and paused in thought. He then arose from his seated position and walked over to the open door. John heard him close it before returning to his chair and wondered what that meant. When the Klaan spoke next, it was in hushed tones, almost as if he didn't want anyone to overhear.

"You did not let me finish, Major. What you know of the Alliance between the races of the Klaan and the Wraith is… not entirely accurate. Our relationship has been strained of late. Day by day, the Wraith have grown increasingly hostile toward my people, threatening to cull them if we do not provide them with more sufficient information. They have been displeased with us, claiming we have not upheld our end of the bargain as favorably as they have theirs. We will soon die if nothing is done to appease them."

"That's too bad. Really," John responded cynically. There was apparently more to this coalition of crazies than met the eye. But then again, that was politics for you: one party was always out for their best interest, the other party be damned. Backstabbing was all too common in the world of treaties and alliances.

"You jest, but you do not yet know how you can benefit." He lowered his voice even more and glanced back at the door to ensure no one was listening before continuing. "Some of my people have planned a rebellion. We no longer feel we owe the Wraith our services and will not tolerate their oppression any longer. When we reach Atlantis, we hope to contain the Wraith there while we travel to Earth ourselves. They will be left there to do as they wish while we Klaans will be free to venture to a new and lush planet."

This surprised John. He hadn't realized that it was the _Klaans_, the far weaker race, that would be doing the backstabbing. But then again, this was the same group of people who had sold out their own kind.

"If you provide us, Major, with the information on how to travel to Earth and offer us no resistance in operating the required Atlantean technology, we will spare your life and take you with us back to your planet. What do you say?"

Sheppard resisted the urge to laugh out loud. "I'll think about it," he said dryly. Of course he wasn't going to help this psycho in any way at all. It astonished John how Hergon actually expected to leave his teammates, his friends, his family in the hands of the Wraith while they all scampered off to another galaxy. Besides, there were all sorts of holes in Hergon's plan; there was the power requirement problem that had prevented Atlantis from dialing Earth ever since the expedition had arrived. The only other way Atlantis could get to Earth was by using its intergalactic engine that the Ancients themselves had used millions of years ago… which the team had no clue how to use. He supposed they would need information in the Ancient database, which they weren't going to get. Still… there was the off-chance that it _could _technically work - but there would be no way in hell they would escape the Wraith.

"Good," Hergon said as he rose to his feet, not picking up on John's sarcastic tone.

Glancing up at his outstretched arms, John realized Hergon wasn't about to cut him down just yet. Once more, he was left alone in the room with nothing but his thoughts as company.

* * *

Ford sat upright on his bed and sighed. He had been thinking of a rescue plan for twelve hours straight and had gotten nowhere. So far, he had only thought of one idea and it wasn't exactly a viable one. But unless anyone had any alternatives….

Pulling his cap on tight, he exited his quarters and made for McKay's lab. Aiden wanted to run his plan by the scientist and Teyla before executing it. He knew it was a bad idea considering what Elizabeth had been through already, but they had no other choice.

As he entered the lab, the two hunched over figures he was seeking came into view. They were both seated at a lab table with some papers in hand which they appeared to be pouring over. Both looked as if they had not slept in years. And to his discontent, Aiden also noticed Kavanagh seated on a far workbench studying some piece of technology Ford thought looked like a blender and was sure would be of no help getting the major back. The slime was just carrying on with life as usual. _Far be it from him to lift a finger to help someone else_, Ford thought.

"Hey, guys," he began as he reached them. "I got this idea, right, but…." His voice trailed off as he realized neither Teyla nor Rodney was listening. "Guys… hello…?" he tried, snapping his fingers.

This seemed to pull at least Teyla out of her trance. She looked up at him, wondering what he could possibly want before she thought better of herself. "I am sorry, Lieutenant, I was just trying to find-"

Ford held up a hand to cut her off and smiled. "It's okay, Teyla. I know." They, like he and most of the other people in Atlantis, had been working tirelessly at trying to come up with a plan. Everyone on the base, maybe with the exception of Kavanagh and Bates, missed the major dearly. And while it was true that some missed him more than others, all had liked him to some degree or another. They all found his carefree nature a welcome relief from the brutality and desperation of their situation. The military respected him and would follow him to hell and back if he thought that was the best course of action. The enlisted men especially admired Sheppard, as he never put them down or treated them any different from himself because of their rank. Aiden remembered how wary he had been of his then soon-to-be CO when Col. Sumner had informed him of the man's tendency to ignore orders. After he had proven his dependability and ability to lead, the lieutenant had immediately trusted Sheppard. He only wished he was here now to tell him what to do.

Surprisingly, the scientists also mourned the loss of not only one of their guinea pigs but a friend as well. While he had often grumbled about testing out new technology, John had never refused to help out. Through the course of the past few months, he had even struck up friendships with some of them, unlike most other military members who were quite standoffish and impersonal with the scientists.

"So, what have you got?" Ford asked Teyla. "Anything?"

She gave him an apologetic look. "I am sorry. We could not think of anything that was not either near impossible or that did not depend on knowing the exact location of Major Sheppard."

Ford frowned and took a seat. _Here goes nothing_…. "Okay, look. I have an idea but I'm going to tell you right off the bat that I don't like it anymore than you're going to. Since - Rodney."

There was no response from the doctor who was still scrutinizing a pamphlet of papers and notes on his laptop.

"Rodney," Aiden tried again. Still nothing. "Rodney!"

McKay jumped at the sound of his name being shouted. Unfortunately, his head hit a lamp that had been positioned over his work area. "Ah! Ah, ow, ow, ow," he winced, immediately putting a hand to his forehead and applying pressure as if he had just ruptured an artery. "Someone call a med team!" he cried. "Oh, God, I'm going to bleed to death… no, it's going to get infected first with some Ancient germ for which there is no cure and then I'm going to die a slow, painful death… my head is going to swell immensely - that is if my brain doesn't first…. Oh, God, my brain! I could already have permanent brain damage! Someone get Carson now before I die! Oh, no, my eye's twitching. Look! Look at it! I'm going to have a seizure!"

Ford and Teyla couldn't suppress their grins as the base's foremost hypochondriac ran around the lab clutching his skull. _Leave it to McKay to break the tension_. "Relax, Rodney. You don't need a med team. Look," Ford pointed out, removing the physicist's hands from his head. "You're not even bleeding. I doubt you'll even have a bruise."

McKay glanced at his hand in disbelief, expecting it to be covered in blood. "No, no, something is definitely wrong. I need an MRI and a CT scan-"

"Dr. McKay," Teyla tried. "I can assure you, there is nothing wrong."

"Listen, if it makes you feel better, we can get Beckett to do an MRI and CT after this is all over," Aiden promised. _What a baby._

Rodney nodded and began to calm down, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth. After several minutes, they were able to begin an intelligent conversation with him.

"As I was saying," Ford began, "this idea I have, it's not the best, but right now it's the only thing we've got." The two looked at him expectantly. He took a deep breath. "We ask Dr. Weir to take us back to wherever they are holding Major Sheppard."

He waited in silence. Teyla merely looked down at the table, as if she was uncertain but was too polite to say so. Rodney, however, did not bother with manners. "What, are you crazy? Don't be ridiculous; I've already thought of that." Ford looked a little disappointed, but Rodney continued anyway. "Have you seen what sort of state she's in, Ford? She won't even talk. There's no way we can ask her to go back to that place."

"Well, unless you've got something else…" Ford prompted. All he received was a hateful look from McKay, so he went on. "I'll take that as a 'no.' Okay, Teyla, what do you think?"

She spoke slowly, choosing her words carefully. "While I do think it is unwise to ask such a painful task of Dr. Weir, I believe it is necessary. We have no other choice."

"Okay," Ford said, clapping his hands together. "Let's go talk to her."

Kavanagh watched the three rise and walk out the door. He had listened to their entire ludicrous conversation and come to the conclusion that they were all insane. He had to warn Bates.

Several minutes later, Teyla, Ford, and Rodney arrived in the infirmary. McKay immediately noticed Elizabeth was in the same position she had been in the day before: her back was to them and she still faced the far wall. Sheppard's jacket was still being clung to. Motioning Carson over, McKay refrained from having the doctor examine his head 'injury' and instead inquired about her condition.

He sighed. "She's about the same as before. She won't even touch the solid foods we've been giving her. The good news is we're getting her hydrated, but she still hasn't uttered a sound. Won't even move either."

"Could she be cleared for off world activity?" Ford asked.

Beckett's eyes widened. "What, are you daft lad? Look at her. You didn't seriously think she was going anywhere, did you?" Getting a dead serious glare from the lieutenant, he voiced his concerns. "She's in no condition to go anywhere, son. Where were you planning on taking her anyway?"

"It's still a work in progress, Doc," Ford assured. "We'll let you know once we get the kinks ironed out of the plan." _Kinks: understatement of the year. Did you forget about the Wraith platoon guarding the Gate, Aiden?_

"Can we see her, Doctor Beckett?" Teyla inquired, attempting to steer the conversation back on course.

"Aye, but I wouldn't mention the major. Wouldn't want to upset her more than she already is."

"Thanks, Doc," Ford replied and they all headed toward Elizabeth's bed. Once again, from behind she appeared as if she was sleeping, but Rodney knew better.

Grabbing an untouched container of apple sauce, McKay slowly approached her as the others remained back. "Hey, Elizabeth," he greeted once more. Just as last time, she ignored him and continued to stare sadly at the wall in front of her. "You know, you should really eat something. We're all getting worried about you. Here, I got you some nice apple sauce." He offered her the container but she continued to gaze dejectedly at the wall.

Rodney frowned and looked at his teammates for advice. At Teyla's urging, he tried again. "Uh, okay. I can get you something else from the mess hall. What would you like? Chicken noodle soup, some chocolate cake, and, ooh, your favorite: vanilla ice cream. I'll even have a glass of lemonade with you, how's that sound?" he quipped. Yet Elizabeth remained unresponsive. _Hey, I thought that was funny, _he thought to himself.

Rodney sighed. There was no way this would work. "Okay, I'll come back later." He rose to leave when a soft voice stopped him.

"I would have stayed with him if he would have just let me," Elizabeth whispered, eyes still glued to the wall.

Rodney had to strain his ears to hear her, so softly she spoke. Looking to his teammates, he found the looks of puzzlement on their faces confirmed that they, too, had heard her speak. He mouthed "what do I do?" to his team. Ford responded my making a motion with his hands that Rodney thought resembled casting a fishing line. _Great, that really helps, _he thought, rolling his eyes. He decided to continue his conversation with Elizabeth, hoping to coax her out of this despondent state.

"If who would have let you?" Rodney asked, although he already guessed the answer. But he didn't know what else to say to her. Maybe if he got her to talk about it….

Elizabeth did not reply. She couldn't bring herself to utter his name; it was too hard for her and the pain was still too near. Squeezing her eyes shut, she attempted to prevent the tears from falling out.

Trying once more, McKay sat on her bed and spoke in gentle tones. "Elizabeth, can you tell us what happened? Anything at all?"

Slowly, Elizabeth rolled from her side and looked up at Rodney. Noticing the sudden motion, a concerned Beckett made his way over but was motioned back by Rodney's hand. He didn't want to risk losing what they had fought so hard to gain. This was progress.

"He lied," she told him simply, not even acknowledging the others in the room. "He… _told _me we were going home, that they had agreed to his deal… he said we were going home, but he stayed. He stayed so I could go," Elizabeth choked out.

Rodney sighed as the heaviness of her words descended upon him. _Damn him, _he cursed silently. It was just like Sheppard to put others before himself. Couldn't he work on getting _his _ass out in one piece next time? _If there is a next time, _Rodney reminded himself. McKay was still unsure of the details of what had transpired, but he supposed they didn't matter now. All that mattered was the location of wherever they were holding Sheppard.

"Elizabeth, do you remember where they were keeping you? Was it a Wraith ship?"

She shook her head and the others could not hide their shock. "Was it a Wraith outpost?" McKay asked, intrigued. When she nodded, he couldn't help but grin. Ever since they had returned from the ruins, he had suspected that they had been taken to a Wraith stronghold of sorts. This would make their mission a whole lot easier.

"Do you remember where it is?"

She thought back to when the Klaans and Wraith were leading her back to the Stargate. They had traveled in a relatively straight line, so maybe…. Again, she nodded.

"Do you think you could take us back there?"

Elizabeth's look of uncertainty changed into one of horror. They weren't actually asking her to go back to that horrible place, were they? "No, I can't!" she cried, retreating back to the far end of her cot.

"Elizabeth, you wouldn't actually have to go back in there, just guide us to where it is-"

"No! I can't go back there! You don't understand…. I just can't. _Please_ don't make me." Her eyes were full of fear and uncertainty.

"Rodney…" Carson warned. This was going too far, and high stress levels were not good for his patient. He didn't want to trigger some sort of episode.

"Right, okay," McKay conceded. This just wasn't working; they would have to think of something else. "Don't worry, you'll be fine," he told Elizabeth. Defeated, he rose and left the room with the rest of his team, set to work on another strategy. But he couldn't help but feeling that they had run out of options.

TBC

* * *

You don't really think that's it for the Klanns' plan, do you? There's more than meets the eye, let's just say. Review please! 


	18. Counting On

**Strange Bedfellows**

**Spoiler: **Tiny, weenie one for "Letter from Pegasus", though it doesn't really qualify as a spoiler. If you didn't see it coming… well, you should have seen it coming. :) And a little one for "The Brotherhood." Nothing important, don't worry.

I've got my mojo back! At least I think I do, depends on what you guys tell me. Hint hint. No seriously, thanks for all the reviews! You've been great! It starts to pick up again at the end of this chapter, and the chapter I just finished (ch 20) is full of action.

Only a handful of chapters left!

**Chapter 18: Counting On**

_Dammit, I must have dozed off again, _John thought to himself. He was still hanging by his arms, as he had been for hours now. It was getting harder and harder to stay awake; he was so drained he found it difficult to just keep his eyes open.

_Concentrate_…._ I need to concentrate on something. _Various math equations ran through his head. He had often found that during briefings back on Atlantis, instead of paying attention to McKay's theories about thingamabobs and whatchamacallits he would doodle on his paper and run random mathematical formulas in his mind. And while his background in applied mathematics hadn't quite came in handy yet, John found it infinitely more interesting than listening to the astrophysicist yammer about… whatever he yammered about.

Starting with something he had learned in grade school, John attempted to recall all the Fibonacci numbers he could remember. _Okay, easy enough… 0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, 55, 89, 144, 233, 377, 610, 987... 987... Come on, John! You can add 610 and 987 for crying out loud. 987... 1497 - no, 1590-something… 1597? 159-_…._ Shit._

Deciding to move to something easier, he tried the prime numbers. _2, 3, 5, 7, 11, 13, 17, 19, 23, 29... Hey, this isn't so bad. _John was able to make it all the way to 523 before he hit a snag. His memory wouldn't let him go any further and he was growing more tired by the minute. _This sucks._

_Okay, pi. You can do pi. You learned it in first grade. 3.141592653589793238462643... 643... 64... Oh, come on already! _he shouted in his head, exasperated. But his frustration seemed to be keeping him awake for the time being. _If McKay could see me now, _John thought with a smile. He had never told the scientist about his degree in mathematics - although he did once let it slip about the Mensa test he had taken - mostly for fear that he would be recruited to the base's Dungeons and Dragons club or something. Not that he had anything against the scientists; in fact he had mostly enjoyed their company. It was just that he found them somewhat… _eccentric _at times, and he liked to keep his mathematical abilities a secret. Besides, he had a reputation to protect.

John's thoughts automatically drifted back to the last conversation he had with Hergon. Was the man simply playing him for a fool? Or did he actually think his ridiculous scheme was going to work? In any case, John had a good mind to spill it to the Wraith, just to get a little retribution. Maybe he could use his new knowledge as a tool against them. But who knows; would that be exactly what Hergon would want? Was this all some sort of complicated, convoluted strategy of his? John's head was spinning; he couldn't make heads or tails of the situation.

He closed his eyes for a brief second, intending only to rest them and clear his head. When he opened them however, he was able to glimpse several humans, Tiny, and Number Two from the corner of his eye. He wondered how long they had been standing there and how long he had nodded off for. _God, I need some sleep._

"Gentlemen," he greeted wearily. "And… _things,_" he finished, not quite sure how to address the Wraith. Not that he cared about pleasantries anyway. John wondered what he was in for now.

He soon got his answer as one of the Wraith approached him with a knife. John bit his lip, shut his eyes, and braced himself for the inevitable burst of pain. It never came, however, and he was forced to open his eyes to see what had happened. The sight that met him he had certainly not expected: the Wraith was cutting the rope that bound him to the ceiling.

After several seconds of sawing through the ties with an ease that no human could hope to achieve, John was released. He fell to the floor with a definitive thud and his ribs were instantly on fire once more. While he remained curled in a heap and regained his breath, one of the humans - who John noticed was enjoying the show before him - spoke up.

"You will remain here. Hergon wishes to speak with you." He turned an exited the room along with his companions, leaving John alone.

Weakly, he pushed himself to a sitting position and leaned against one of the walls. He could feel the blood returning to his upper limbs which briefly gave him pins and needles. It would be a while before he would be able to move them. The ache between his shoulders returned with full force, and for the first time he noticed how much it really throbbed. Too tired to move, however, John remained content sitting on the ground, eyes closed.

To his dismay, he did not fall asleep. His mind simply wouldn't let him, and his military training kept him alert for any signs of danger, one of which walked through the door at that moment. Without even opening his eyes, he knew it was Hergon. The room seemed to lose all life when that man was in it. It was darker, colder, _eviler._

"Major," he addressed, knowing he was awake. He studied the man on the floor. "You do not look well. Is there anything you need?"

John suppressed the urge not to laugh again. _Oh, this is rich. _He could see right through the commander's façade; there was something he wanted, and if that meant being nice, so be it. And although he was tempted to ask for an aspirin, a beer, and a ticket home, John responded with a clipped "no." He wasn't about to accept any sort of help from this pompous prick.

"I see," the Klaan replied, a little miffed. "Have you thought about my proposition?"

_Straight to the point. _"Yes." He was going to make him work for his answers at least.

"Well? Will you agree to help us?" he asked irritably. He was getting annoyed at his prisoner's obvious lack of respect.

John cracked an eye open to see how Hergon was reacting to his disobedience. The man looked on the edge of his seat as he awaited his answer. _Hey, this is fun. It's nice to have the shoe on the other foot for once. _"Mmmm…" he said, feigning actually giving thought to this oh-so-important decision. "No." Then he closed his eyes again and pretended to ignore Hergon.

"What?" He couldn't believe it. "You mean to say you will not aid the Klaans?"

"Nope, sorry. No can do. You see, I'm sort of busy at the moment; got a lot of things on my plate." He opened his eyes, looked at Hergon tauntingly, and smiled. "You'll understand." He then closed his eyes once more and could only imagine the steam coming out of the commander's ears.

Several moments later, he felt himself being brusquely yanked up by his shirt and slammed against the wall. It didn't surprise him; Hergon was irate and Sheppard had only egged him on. In fact, John enjoyed this sudden outburst. It pleased him to see his once cool and collected captor, who had at one time been so arrogant and cocksure of himself, begin to sweat in desperation.

"You are making quite the mistake, Sheppard," Hergon growled. "Rest assured that after we take the city, you will be the first the Wraith feed upon." He dropped John to the floor and stormed out of the room in a huff, barking orders to his men to take the major back to his cell.

_Well, _John thought. _That went well.

* * *

_

Elizabeth lied staring at the ceiling of her quarters. She cursed the endless rows of circles that decorated the ceiling and cursed the Ancient who thought that such a pattern would actually be pleasing to the eye. She had on several occasions counted all of the intricate shapes, often finding it soothing for the mind, and had found there to be exactly 1,000 tiny rings above her head. But as she tried now, Elizabeth found she could not get past the third row. After number 312 or so, she could not concentrate. Her thoughts drifted to somewhere else. To some_one_ else.

It had been three days since she had been discharged from the infirmary. Of course, Beckett had wanted to keep her longer, but she couldn't stand everyone coddling her like she was an infant. They had all simply assumed that because she hadn't spoken much that she must have had some inner demons that only they could exorcise. How incessant questions about her well-being and what had happened was supposed to help her condition she wasn't sure, but in any case she needed to get out of there. At least her own room provided her some sort of privacy where she could be alone with her thoughts - that is until McKay decided to knock on the door during his hourly check-ins. She was getting really tired of those.

Running her hands over her face, she let her mind wander, but Elizabeth knew where it would settle. It was something she didn't want to think about. All she wanted now was for someone to pinch her, to wake up from this awful nightmare. _Three days since Carson released me… so that's five days John's been gone, _she calculated. Only five days…. It had felt like a millennia, like she had aged and thousand times over since he had been missing. She wondered what kind of condition he was in. He was pretty bad off when she had last seen him, but now…. _Is he even still alive?_

Clutching his jacket, Elizabeth realized she wished she had gotten to know him more. After spending months with him in a completely different galaxy, what did she truly know about him? Sure, she had known about this flyboy's record; that she had gotten from his file. Anyone could have gotten that. He had liked Johnny Cash; she had seen the poster in his quarters. And of course college football, Ferris wheels, and anything that went over two-hundred miles per hour. Then there was the vanilla ice cream he had insisted on sneaking to the mess for in the middle of the night to get with her when he had sensed she needed a break, which was often. But other than that…? Sadly, Elizabeth realized she had learned more about him in the last week than she had in the past six months. Not frivolous, inane things like his favorite food or hobby, but _real _things, things of substance, like what kind of man he was. He had proven that to her.

Suddenly she longed for more time with him, to share more of those innocent moments they had together, if _only_ to find out his favorite food or hobby. Elizabeth needed to tell him what he meant to her. _What did he mean to me? _she wondered, not exactly sure of the answer. Well, she knew that he had meant a lot to her. Everything, even. He was her rock, her anchor, her support, her strength, her protection. There was no denying there had been something between them, but what that 'something' was she wasn't certain of. She had gotten the feeling that he didn't want a relationship because it could potentially ruin the entire expedition, something she happened to concur with. Elizabeth had also recognized that it would completely undermine her authority if the rest of the base found out - which they undoubtedly would - that the head of the team was seeing the chief military officer. _He was protecting me, _she realized. Often times she got the feeling he was pulling himself away from her, like he was afraid to hurt her. Of course, he _had _known about Simon….

_Simon, _she thought. Elizabeth had never told John that she had asked Simon to move on. They had officially split only a short time ago, but their relationship had long been dead even before she had left for the Pegasus galaxy. He was always too… distant. Now she regretted not telling John. Not that it was any of his business, really, but she wondered if it would have changed anything. _Probably not, _she decided. Still, she would have liked someone to talk to about it instead of keeping it locked away inside her, and knew John had always been there for her in the past whenever she needed to talk. Smiling, she recalled the time when he had instantly stopped his work on a Puddle Jumper and brushed off Bates when she had come to him about the Kolya incident.

_Wait. What am I thinking? _She expelled the selfish thoughts from her head. John was important to _all _of them.

But the fact was she alone without him. Elizabeth was empty with John gone, with John taken away from her. _Stolen _from her.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. _I swear, if it's Rodney one more time_…. Elizabeth rose to answer it. As the doors her room slid open, they revealed the smiling but concerned face of Doctor Beckett. Truth be told, she was surprised it had taken him this long to check in on her.

"Just making my rounds," the Scotsman informed her. When she didn't budge, he asked, "Mind if I come in and do a quick exam?"

_Actually, I do mind, _she thought bitterly. Elizabeth didn't feel like talking to anyone right now, didn't feel like seeing anyone right now. But she wordlessly complied and moved aside to let the doctor in.

"So what _really_ brings you to my neck of the woods, Carson?" she wondered aloud, impatience tainting her voice.

Carson inwardly winced. "Well… I know I promised not to disturb you… but Rodney sent me," he spilled. Noticing the look of indignation on her face, he added, "He's just worried about you, lass. We all are."

She couldn't believe this. She should have known Rodney was behind this. _The next time I see him, I swear-_

"Besides, I brought some lunch," he offered, holding up a tray of food she hadn't previously noticed. "No one's seen you in the mess for the past few days, so I figured you've got to be hungry."

Elizabeth allowed herself a grin. "Famished," she admitted. All this time she had been ignoring her hunger and hadn't actually noticed how intense it had become until Beckett had waved the chicken and mashed potatoes in front of her face. "What about the food shortage?"

He shrugged. "I think we can make an exception for you, love. I won't tell if you won't."

She smiled appreciatively and dug in. God, it felt good to taste real food again_. It's nice to have friends who really care,_ she thought Maybe she had overreacted before with Rodney. He was only looking out for her. Plus, he had made a promise after all.

"Ah, now there's a smile. Now, tell me how you're feeling, lass," Carson said, turning the conversation to more serious matters.

Elizabeth proceeded to tell him about her physical symptoms: the cuts and bruises she had unintentionally ignored treating, how her swollen knee had shrunk a little in size, how she was continuing drinking plenty of fluids… although that wasn't entirely accurate. All in all, she hadn't done much of anything the past few days but lie on her bed. She couldn't even sleep when she wanted to.

"Well, you look pretty good to me," he declared after a quick examination. "Just give yourself some time to rest and you'll be up and about in no time." He paused, wondering if he should ask the next question. Carson looked her straight in the eye and asked softly, "So, how are you _feeling_? Really?"

Putting her fork down, she stopped chewing. Was she really that obvious? Not meeting his worried gaze, she played with her food: digging holes in her mashed potatoes, carving them into various shapes, all the while deciding how she wanted to answer. _If _she wanted to answer.

"What are we supposed to do, Carson?" she asked quietly. "Keep working like nothing happened?"

Beckett looked at the broken woman sitting on the bed. He was a doctor of medicine most hours of the day, but right now he was a fellow human being, a friend. But most of all, he was someone to talk to, a shoulder to cry on. Sensing she was about to say more, he let her continue.

"It's been five days now. _Five _days." Elizabeth made a sound that Beckett couldn't tell if it was a sniffle or a faint giggle. "You know, I keep thinking…. I keep waiting for him to walk through that door with that big goofy grin plastered on his face, just itching to crack one of his jokes."

Carson studied her once more. She looked so happy as the memory played in her mind, but at the same time she looked so far-away and grief-stricken.

Noticing his stare upon her, she looked up. "So what are we supposed to do?" she asked him again. "Just wait and hope by some miracle that he comes back? Or just move on? Should I put on a happy face, smile, and pretend it's all going to be okay? Because it's not. Not for me."

Again she received silence from the doctor. Elizabeth knew it was unfair to ask this of him. He was only trying to do his job and here she was pouring all her feelings sorrows out onto him. The silence was awkward; she felt exposed. As she opened her mouth to apologize, she was cut off.

"You know," he began slowly and gently, "as a medical doctor, I'm trained to assess, diagnose, and treat anatomical problems. It's sometimes difficult, yes, but they're nothing compared to the ailments of the heart and of the soul. And while we can more often times than not cure diseases and sicknesses, it's not that easy when it comes to spiritual, to _incorporeal _afflictions. The fact is, love, there is no training for such things.

"What I'm trying to say, Dr. Weir, is that with time,you will be completely fine as far as your body goes. But I think that it's time to soothe your troubled heart." With that, he gave her a knowing smile and stood to leave.

Elizabeth stared at the Scot before her, speechless. Was there some sort of hidden meaning behind his words? Had he just told her that she had the capability to bring John home? That she should at least try?

"I'll be back in to check up on you later, lass."

"Thanks, Carson." And she meant for more than just the check-up.

"Don't mention it." He turned to leave.

"Wait!" Elizabeth called after him. "I'm… sorry about the hand," she said, noticing the bandage. That was an episode she didn't care to talk about ever again.

"Not at all. Believe me, I've had worse." Carson smiled and left the room.

Elizabeth watched him go. She would have never thought the good doctor could be so insightful. He was right; she did know the location of the Wraith outpost and therefore could lead a rescue mission to go in and get John. If he did return, it wouldn't be because of a miracle, it would be because of something she had the ability to do. The question remained, though: could she handle it?

She needed to get out of this room, to think. Maybe one of the piers would be the perfect spot. Exiting her quarters, she gradually made her way down one of the hallways. It was slow-going because of her still stiff muscles and joints, but she welcomed a stretch of the legs. As she mindlessly walked the corridors of the great city, passers-by couldn't help but cast inquisitive glances in her direction. She got the feeling that some were genuinely concerned for her welfare, but others simply were curious as to how the mighty leader of Atlantis was coping now that she had fallen.

Unconsciously, she stopped in front of one of the doors. It led to someone's quarters. _John's quarters, _she realized. Hesitating for only an instant, she opened the doors and entered. Chills ran down her spine. Elizabeth had only been in here once and until now had never actually _noticed _his room. It was small, out of the way. The interior was utilitarian: only a desk, chair, and shelf accompanied the bed. For some reason, she had expected it to be a mess, but in fact it was in pretty good shape. Not immaculate, but pretty clean.

The bed was still unmade, just as it had been the morning they had left on the mission to Klaan. Smiling sadly, she noticed the Johnny Cash poster still hung above the bed. Running her hands along the desk, her eyes locked on to _War and Peace_. Page eighteen, one page past where he had been several months ago, she noted amusedly. Elizabeth fingered his extra set of dog tags that were hanging over his lamp before they moved to the drawer of his desk. Opening it, she found stacks and stacks of papers on which were written various plans he had apparently put together in his free time. There were so many, maybe even hundreds - surely enough to make Rodney jealous - complete with diagrams, charts, everything. They were on a variety of topics, ranging from how to more efficiently use the Puddle Jumper's energy consumption to a theory on how much energy in Atlantis was lost due to friction and heat. It was amazing; Elizabeth wondered why he had never mentioned them. And here Rodney had once criticized him for being too frivolous.

Buried under the papers were a 9 mil and a VHS tape. Elizabeth guessed it was his beloved college football game, the one with Boston College versus Miami and the famous Hail Mary pass. Then there was a picture of him in his flight suit standing next to another fellow pilot in front of some sort of helicopter Elizabeth could not identify. John had his arm around the young man and they were both grinning like idiots, like he had just told one of his patented jokes. Elizabeth could tell they were in the desert from the sand and hot sun in the photo. Turning it over, she read what was hand-written on the back. "Captain John 'Sparky' Sheppard, Second Lieutenant Bobby 'Doogie' Lilam, USAF. 417th Expeditionary Mission Support Squadron, Kabul, Afghanistan. March 21, 2002." It was dated three months before Doogie had died. She could not help but laugh out loud, though, at John's call sign, 'Sparky.' It certainly did not fit him. _There must have been an inside joke behind that one. _

Taking the picture, she sat down on his bed and took a deep breath. Elizabeth let her eyes wander around the room. It was him, she realized. His quarters had every aspect of him in it: a little disheveled here and there, practical but lighthearted, and full of surprises. Closing her eyes, she could even imagine him alive there with her. _But that isn't the case, _she reminded herself. _He's probably _dying _right now._ He was gone; she had seen it with her own eyes. _But you can _make _it the case. You can get him back. No one else on this base knows where the outpost is; only you do._

She sat with her eyes closed and argued with herself. She wanted to help John, she really did, but she didn't know if she was strong enough. Would she be able to go back there and face her tormentors? What were the odds on a plan even working anyway? What were the odds he was still alive even?

Elizabeth ran her thumb along his photo. She remembered how he had told her of his friend Doogie, how the experience had torn him apart. She didn't want that to be her. The difference between this situation and Doogie's was that John's hands had been tied; there was nothing more he could have done. Elizabeth's, however….

Steeling herself, Elizabeth took a deep breath and rose to her feet. John had never left anyone behind and she wasn't about to either. She at least owed him that much, and if that meant facing some stupid, selfish fears, than she would face them.

With renewed determination, the leader of Atlantis strode out of John's quarters and made for the briefing room.

* * *

_This isn't happening. Not again, _Ford thought. Just when he had thought he had dealt with all opposition to coming up with a rescue plan - namely that of Sergeant Bates - he had to hear it again, this time from Kavanagh. 

As before, Ford, Teyla, and McKay all stood on one side of the office, all adopting defensive postures, as their opponent stood across the briefing room's table from them. Kavanagh stood with arms crossed. He wasn't about to give in so easily, especially with Bates backing him up. Aiden noticed Bates hadn't said a word the entire time, but his mere presence angered him. He had thought the sergeant had been put in his place before. Now he wanted to rehash the issue?

"Look," Kavanagh began, "I'm just as happy as the next guy that Dr. Weir is back."

_Yeah, I'm sure you are, _Ford thought, rolling his eyes. It was no secret Kavanagh despised Dr. Weir, and he certainly didn't approve how she handled most of the city's operations.

"But this is ludicrous," he continued. "We can't go storming back there just to get Major Sheppard back. It's insane. We have no way of finding him without Dr. Weir's help, and it's painfully obvious she too petrified to be of any assistance."

"'We?' Just who do you think this 'we' is? You're not going anywhere, Kavanagh. You'll be happy to know that your sorry self will be safe and sound back here on Atlantis. Not that we would expect you to ever risk your neck for someone else," Rodney muttered. _How did this chump ever end up on my science team? And Bates? 'Head of security?' He's no better than a Wal-Mart rent-a-cop._

"That's beside the point."

"Did Sergeant Bates put you up to this?" Teyla inquired.

Kavanagh stared at her with contempt, as if she had just found out the truth. "That's not important. What's important-"

"Bates, you're going on report as soon as we get this thing resolved," Ford decided.

"- is the security of this city."

"Security of the city?" Rodney asked. "And what exactly would you know about that? From what I've seen, you spend your days either holed up in the lab, at the mess hall, or taking unapproved breaks in the media room, so please, do tell. I'm really curious as to what you can contribute to the security of this base." His sardonic tone was not missed.

"McKay. You're one of the smartest guys on this base; you of all people should see how irrational this whole thing is!"

"Oh, please, Kavanagh. Don't play that card with me!" This was getting heated. They were now practically shouting over one another.

"Listen. If you want to get yourselves killed, fine. But we have Bates here."

"Wait, wait, wait. What are you saying, Kavanagh?" Ford asked. He hoped this wasn't going where he thought it was going.

The scientist may have been a weasel, but he wasn't about to be intimidated. Smiling like he was some divine prophet, he answered. "I'm saying…. The major is gone. But the fact is, he was just a grunt. Expendable. He can easily be replaced."

His words hung over them all and a heavy silence descended upon the room. Even Bates cringed. He didn't know Kavanagh would go that far just yet.

Ford could hear his heart beating in his own head as he tried to control his infuriation. _He really didn't say what I think he just said, did he? _The looks on his fellow teammates' faces confirmed his suspicion, though, and left the young lieutenant wondering what the laws against murder in the Pegasus galaxy were.

McKay opened his mouth and was about to lay into the man when he noticed a shape in the doorway. Noticing his gaze, four other pairs of eyes followed his stare and came upon the figure of Elizabeth Weir looking at them. She bore an expression of confusion on her features.

_Oh… shit, _Ford thought, grimacing. _How long had she been standing there?_

Elizabeth walked into the room, ignoring as her body protested the movement. Her brow furrowed in puzzlement. She had only caught the last few sentences Kavanagh had said, but it had been enough. How could anyone be so cold? It made her sick.

Kavanagh swallowed as Elizabeth stopped in front of him, her gaze indicating her extreme displeasure with the scientist. "D-D-Dr. Weir," he stammered. "I… I was just-"

A slap to the face caught the off guard physicist by surprise.

_The bitch hit me! _"How _dare_ you!"

"No, how dare _you_," Elizabeth shouted over him. She had had plenty of practice at doing _that_. "I wish I could say your obvious lack of concern for the other members of this expedition surprises me, but ever since coming to this galaxy I've learned to expect nothing more from you."

"But-"

"I'm not finished." She paused and let the notion that _she _had the supreme power sink in through the scientist's thick skull. She was way beyond angry at this point. "Now. If you were actually able to put your ego aside, you would be able to see that Major Sheppard in an invaluable part of this expedition. We wouldn't be here today without him, and may I remind you that he has saved your ass, _both _of your asses -" she said, looking to Bates as well - "on countless occasions. And if anyone on this team is expendable, it's you." She didn't add that his comment had also hurt her personally.

"But there are Wraith out there!" Kavanagh cried.

"And believe me," she warned, lowering her voice and getting into his face, "that if they do somehow get into this city, I will make sure you are the first they feed upon." Of course she didn't mean it, but she did enjoy the look of utter terror that crossed his face.

"And you," Elizabeth said as he turned to Bates. "Do I have to remind you that is your CO out there?"

"No, ma'am." This was a fight he couldn't win and he knew it.

"Good. Then I will let him deal with you when he gets back. He'll be home shortly." She dismissed the pair and turned to her friends who had a look of pure shock on their face. "What?" she asked innocently.

"Um…" Rodney tried. "It's just… _wow,_" he laughed.

Forgetting his company, Ford smiled and added, "You just handed them their asses on a platter!" He coughed, realizing what he had said. "If you don't mind me saying. Ma'am."

"Not at all, Lieutenant. Now, I need to know our status," she said, eager to get this conversation on the right track.

"Since you have returned, Dr. Weir, we have sent two probes through the Stargate to the planet Klaan," Teyla explained. "The first was able to detect a group of eight Wraith guarding the Gate before it was disabled by one of their Stunners. The second, which was sent two days ago, revealed that the Wraith still stood watch over the Gate before it, too, was immobilized."

"No troops or Puddle Jumpers could possibly make it through, for obvious reasons," Ford clarified. "Even if we cloaked, all they would have to do is fire blindly as soon as the Gate connected. So we toyed with the idea of sending grenades through first. But then we realized the Wraith could easily step out of the blast radius and avoid the detonation altogether."

"And then we believed C4 might be the answer." It was Teyla's turn again, but Rodney intervened.

"But any detonation of that magnitude in such close proximity to the Gate could easily destroy it." He threw his hands up. "So we're stuck."

Elizabeth took it all in silently. They had been busy while she had been.… _While I had been pitying myself, _she admitted. She was ashamed. All that time could have been used planning a rescue mission. But there was no time to dwell on that now; there were more important mattersat hand.

"Okay, McKay, I want you to send in another MALP, see what's going on."

"Ma'am…." Ford was cautious. He wanted to go get the major as much as everyone else, but he felt it was his duty to inform her of the risks. "We only have one MALP left, and if this one-"

She held up a hand to silence him. "I know, Aiden. Let's just see what turns up, all right?"

"Yes, ma'am." He had been hoping she would say that.

"If we get an all-clear, I want a Jumper ready to go with a full team of Marines on board."

"I'm coming, too," Rodney stated.

"As am I," Teyla added.

Elizabeth looked at her team. They were the best anyone could hope for, and she now understood why John had risked his life for them on many occasions: because he knew they would do the same for him - no matter how much he didn't want them to.

"I figured you would," she smiled.

"Elizabeth…. You realize this means that if we get the go-ahead, you're going to have to go with us?" Rodney asked, ever-concerned.

She nodded, not hiding her nervousness at all well.

"And you're going to be okay with that?" he continued, genuinely worried how she would handle returning to the place where she could have died.

Elizabeth sighed and looked him in the eye. "Do I have a choice?" She returned her resolute gaze to the now active Gate. "Send the MALP."

TBC

* * *

Yes, I decided to make Carson all cool in this chapter. I love Beckett, yay! And no one like Kavanagh, so I had to find an excuse to do that. I'm sure you'll forgive me, though, hehehe. 


	19. Comings and Goings

**Strange Bedfellows**

**A/N: **Thanks once again for your reviews, guys! Especially all you newbies. If there are any other lurkers out there who haven't reviewed yet, what are you waiting for! This chapter picks up the pace, which will carry over to the next chapter.

Oh, and my beta has decided to become lazy, so I apologize for any errors.

elemental-sparky: I named him after your pen name, of course! Just kidding. I didn't know Joe's character in CSI was 'Sparky"... kinda a weird coincidence, huh? You'll find out about his callsign later. It has to do with one of his early missions when he was a young pilot.

**Chapter 19: Comings and Goings**

"Receiving MALP telemetry," Rodney announced. He couldn't help but feeling that this scenario was all too familiar. Twice before he had uttered those same words, and twice before they had not met with success. This time was different, though. He _knew _this time they would catch a break.

"Incoming video feed…." _God, can't this thing go any faster? _There. The recognizable setting of the planet Klaan registered on the laptop's screen. A windswept meadow spanned the entire length of the screen, just as they had all seen several times before. But this time, there was one noticeable difference: there were no Wraith.

"Pan the camera," Dr. Weir ordered quickly, hoping this was not too good to be true. McKay did as told, and the results confirmed the previous assessment. The Wraith had apparently vacated the immediate are around the Stargate.

"Why do you think they left, ma'am?" Ford asked. He found it a bit odd that up until today, the Wraith had been so intent on blocking any of his men from attempting a rescue mission. And now they had just picked up and left? It didn't make any sense.

"I don't know, but I _really_ don't care," she responded frankly with a slight grin. This was the best news she had gotten in a long time, and she wasn't about to pass up the opportunity. She wondered how long the Wraith had been gone. While she was sulking in her room, could they have used that time to get a plan together? Would they be too late now?

"I agree," Teyla voiced her opinion. "We must act now while we still have the chance."

Elizabeth looked to Rodney, who shrugged and replied, "I'm ready. I'm your regular Rambo, I am." He rolled his eyes and laughed nervously before looking away. _God help me. I'm a dead man._

That earned a small smile from the other members of the team despite the seriousness of their situation. Finally, Elizabeth looked in Aiden's direction. Ultimately, military matters were his decision. She trusted him to make the right call, but right now she honestly didn't know if anything at all could keep her from going through that wormhole. Moreover, she wanted to go before she lost her nerve.

"All right, let's do it," he confirmed.

Keying her radio, she called to Stackhouse. "Sergeant, do you have that Jumper ready?"

"Yes, ma'am. Jumper Three is ready to go with six Marines onboard, including myself. We have a full load of ammo and room for four more people."

"Copy that, Sergeant. Stand by in the Jumper bay; we'll meet you up there." Turning off her radio, she turned to Grodin. "Peter, you're in charge until we return." She figured that by all proper procedures and protocol, Bates should technically be in charge, but right now Elizabeth didn't have too much sympathy for the man.

Grodin paled with the added responsibility but nodded anyway. He knew about the recent clash between Bates and Ford over the risk of such a mission as the one they were about to go on. By now, the whole base knew. Peter had never liked the sergeant and thought he had seriously overstepped his bounds. He understood why he had command and Bates did not.

Ford, Teyla, Rodney, and Elizabeth all made their way to the Jumper bay upstairs. All walked with an air of determination, though Elizabeth slightly trembled at the thought of the upcoming task. She hoped no one noticed; they all needed to be strong. Here she was, in another galaxy, _voluntarily_ going back to Hell itself to face her own demons - a long way from negotiating treaties in the Baltic.

Reaching Jumper Three, Elizabeth looked inside. Six well-built Marines were armed to the teeth with P-90s, pistols, grenades, you name it. These were the men she would be counting on, the ones who would actually be going back into the outpost. All she had to do was provide directions, and that thought gave her at least a small amount of comfort.

Elizabeth took her place beside Stackhouse in the co-pilot's seat and her breathing automatically quickened as the craft took to the air. When they reached the Gate room, she knew this would be her last chance to opt out. _No. Not a chance, _she decided. _I can do this. John put his fears aside all the time. I can do the same for him. Besides, _she thought amusedly, _if _Rodney _could do it_….

As they entered the wormhole, a familiar icy sensation grabbed her. This time, however, Elizabeth was sure it was because of the severity and pressure of their situation, and not because of the physics of subspace travel. It was the same feeling she had while in the outpost, and she expected the closer they got to their destination, the stronger the feeling would grow.

Bright sunlight greeted them on the other side, quite a contrast to the atmosphere of where they were going. She immediately recognized the trail that led to the village and unconsciously grabbed the armrests of her seats a little tighter.

Stackhouse noticed the action. "Ma'am? You alright?"

Elizabeth didn't respond. She stared out through the windshield as the memories of her imprisonment played through her head.

"Dr. Weir?" Sergeant Stackhouse tried again.

"What? No… I'm fine. Really, I'm fine." It was more of an attempt to convince herself than to convince the Marine.

"Where to, ma'am?"

Elizabeth studied her surroundings. _Okay… there's the path to the village… we walked along that for an hour or so… before that we came from a sort of rock formation_…. "That way," she ordered, pointing in the direction of a large cliff-like structure in the distance.

What had taken them hours on foot, the Jumper covered in mere minutes. Soon they were in front of a mammoth rock face that spanned the length of several football fields. Stackhouse set the cloaked spacecraft down half a kilometer from the structure as a precaution.

"Are you sure this is it, ma'am? It just looks like a giant rock."

Elizabeth found herself unable to respond. It was getting harder and harder to breathe. She shut her eyes tight, not wanting to even _look _at the awful place, and nodded to the sergeant. Finally finding her voice, she pointed to a camouflaged doorway that was hidden behind a protruding stone slab. "That's the entrance."

"Okay people, listen up," Ford announced. "Porter, Stackhouse, you take point. Webber and myself will cover our sixes. Everyone else pair up in the middle. As soon as we get to the entrance, McKay might need to open the door for us, so I want everyone else to stay sharp while he's doing so. And remember to plant the C4 as you go. Teams of two at all times. We may have to split up to find the major, but no one, _no one, _goes off by themselves. Got it?" He received nods from all the team members. "Once we find Major Sheppard, we get the hell out of Dodge. Questions?"

There were none.

"All right. Stay in radio contact at all times. Let's move." Ford turned to Elizabeth and tossed her a spare handgun. "If you see anyone coming that's not us… shoot them. Just keep your radio on and you'll be fine here."

Before Elizabeth could respond, Ford and the others were out of the Puddle Jumper and headed toward the doorway. She looked doubtfully at the 9 mil in her hands and remembered the last time she had handled a gun. She and John had been taken by the Dart shortly after. Elizabeth hoped a similar string of events would not ensue this time.

* * *

Teyla jogged silently behind one of the Marines toward the outpost's entrance, the only sound being the soft scraping noises as the team moved over the gravel. Although it appeared to be simply a natural rock formation, she sensed fear and hate emanating from the structure. _No wonder Dr. Weir had been so adamant about not returning. _Teyla couldn't blame her. Putting the feeling of foreboding she got from her Wraith-sense aside, she still felt an evil to this place that would ward off anyone with a modicum of common sense.

The group reached the entrance of the edifice. Aside from the well-hidden door they were now standing in front of, one would still not be able to tell one was about to enter a Wraith stronghold. While the Marines adopted defensive positions around location, Rodney immediately approached the door.

"This is amazing…" he breathed, not able to suppress the scientist in him. "It's an exact replica of the Wraith door we encountered on the Hive Ship, the one we went to with the Genii. Look at the similar spine-like structure-"

"You can admire it later," Ford chastised.

"Right. Sorry." McKay immediately set to work, using a sensor to detect the point in the wall adjacent to the door that would house the power components. Once located, he then used a knife to cut through the thick, tissue-like outer shell. McKay imagined that if he were to ever touch a rhinoceros's skin, it would feel something like this. Spreading apart the two flaps of the 'skin,' the astrophysicist revealed a series of tubes that were channeling energy. Next, a clamp was placed on one of these tubes, and soon after running some diagnostics, the door was open. _Thirty seconds flat. Not bad, _he thought with a smile.

"Good work," Aiden complimented. Pressing two fingers together and waving them in the direction of the door, he signaled the rest of his team to move in. After everyone had entered, he placed a C4 charge on the wall and joined the rest of his men inside.

The first thing he noticed was the cold -quite a difference from the hot climate they had been in only moments ago. And while the noon sun blazed overhead, this place was as dark as the deepest shadows. It was _sinister. _The pungent stench reached them soon after. They could only speculate as to its source, but they all had a fairly good idea that it was the smell of rotting flesh.

"McKay," Ford began, and the scientist immediately began sifting through his gear for the life signs detector.

"Got it." He studied the screen for a moment, examining the numerous hallways and rooms of the structures. There were dozens of life signs scattered throughout the base, but which one was the major? "There's a cluster of individuals in an intersecting hallway about one hundred yards straight ahead," McKay warned.

Ford nodded and gave another hand signal. Five of his team members moved to one side of the hall while the remaining four stayed on their current side. Doing their best to stay hidden, they slowly moved forward, guns up and at the ready.

"Any sign of the major?" the lieutenant whispered.

"There are life signs all over the place," Rodney responded. "There's no way of telling which one is him and which ones are either the Wraith or the Klaans."

"Then we shall have to investigate each one of them, one by one," Teyla offered.

_Great, _Ford thought. _Just what I wanted to do. _He was about to radio Dr. Weir in the Jumper to ask her if she knew where they were holding Major Sheppard, but he stopped himself when he saw six Wraith and three men approaching their location. Motioning for his team to halt, Ford pressed himself against the wall of the corridor. His team followed suit, but the enemy continued to come. There was nowhere to retreat to; they had passed no intersecting passageways, and if they attempted to run through the open entranceway, surely they would be seen.

They were cornered.

* * *

John lied curled up in the corner of his cell. He was hurt, and he was _tired_. Over the past few days, he had gotten at least a few hours of sleep, and ever since Elizabeth had left, he noted, the horrible nightmares had stopped.

He let his mind wander. _How long have I been here? A week? Two? _John wasn't sure; it had felt like years to him. He wondered what Atlantis had been doing in the meantime. _Rodney's probably solved the mystery of the universe, Teyla should have mastered the game of football by now, Ford might have even named the planet, and Elizabeth_…

He paused, and his thoughts lingered on her. Each time he remembered what could have happened, what _almost _happened to her, he died a little inside. Each time she had been taken away to be questioned and God-knew what else, a part of him had been taken away, too. And when she returned home through the Gate, a part of him went along with her.

Thinking about her was his only escape from this horrifying prison. Elizabeth was flawed, as any human was, but to him she was perfect. In fact, that was what he loved about her: her quirks. Like how she twisted her hair in apprehension when she thought no one was looking, or how the belongings on her desk had to be in some exact, incomprehensible order only she knew.

All his life, he had never stopped long enough to get to know anyone the way he had known her. Though she hadn't shared too much of her past, he had already felt like he had known her for years. Her actions alone showed her true nature, and in many cases that was more important, more telling than any conversation could be.

Suddenly, he frowned. Had he honestly thought that he had had a chance with her? Simon aside, he could never have ended up with a woman like her. She was _too _perfect for him, so completely and utterly above him. And despite what everyone thought, he wasn't just a flyboy with a girl in every port. Oftentimes, he preferred to be alone. Sure, he had dated a number of women, but she was different somehow. Maybe it was her refusal to put up with any of his crap, or maybe it was the way she made him feel as if he could do anything. Either way, it terrified him. He was afraid that one way or another, he would end up hurting her in the end.

Feeling a set of eyes upon him, John opened his eyes and feebly turned to the entrance of the cell. Hergon stood there, just judging him in silence, something that did not sit with his prisoner too well. Behind the Klaan, standing stoically as ever in the hallway, were Tiny and Number Two.

After several beats of stillness, the commander spoke. "Get up."

John wanted nothing more than to tell the man to piss off, but that required energy he no longer possessed. Instead, he simply closed his eyes and returned to a more comfortable position. Standing would be an impossible task; he didn't think he would be able to if he so wanted.

What little patience he had left now vanished, and Hergon stormed up to John and yanked him roughly to his feet. John supported himself against the wall, without which he would have surely toppled over.

"Your little façade grows wearisome, Major. The siege of Atlantis and your people is all but inevitable." He spoke matter-of-factly, as if what he said was an ordained dogma handed down by God himself. "Now, I am a kind man and will therefore give you one more chance to tell us what we wish to know."

John snorted at the commander's assessment of himself. He had known the man to be pompous and arrogant, but this was too much.

Hergon leaned in and spoke in low, threatening tones. "Help us gain access to your city and we will go from there." He stepped away and moved toward the entrance once more. "It is your choice. If you decide to cooperate, come with me. Otherwise," he said as he gestured to Tiny, "my colleague here would dearly love to… _speak _with you. And believe me, once he has begun his interrogation, you will be _begging _for me instead."

Leaning heavily now against the wall, John eyed the beast in the corridor. He sneered wickedly in anticipation. Moving his eyes to Hergon, he saw the commander motion to the entrance, beckoning for John to follow.

Hergon cocked an eyebrow in warning. "This is your last chance, Major…."

Time seemed to freeze. There on one side of the room was his chance at life, extending his hand toward at least temporary salvation. And standing behind that man was the very creature who could take it away from him with the touch of his hand. What would seem like the obvious choice, though, John knew he could not take. A deal with the devil himself. He could picture the Wraith inside Atlantis, mercilessly feeding upon his friends, upon _her. _He'd rather die first.

That very message seemed to reach Hergon as John remained motionless, refusing his offer. The commander frowned. He had no doubt he would get inside the city sooner or later, but this minor obstacle would mean the latter case, unfortunately. No matter; he _would_ accomplish his goal.

"Very well, Major Sheppard. You will regret your decision sooner than you think." With that, he walked out and returned to another part of the outpost.

The door remained open, leaving a clear path between Tiny and his next potential meal. The Wraith remained unmoving, savoring the fear he could practically _taste_ radiating from the man against the wall. Tiny slowly walked in, Stunner in hand although he knew he would have no need for it today.

John watched the creature move in, his posture screaming confidence. This was a being at the top of the food chain, with no natural enemies, who had nothing to be afraid of. It was like death itself was walking toward him. And although he was terrified of the Wraith, he was not scared of dying. As soon as Elizabeth had walked through the Gate, he had known this had become a one-way trip for him. He was at peace with that. If that meant he died so that others may live, than that was what happened. _No regrets_….

Tiny stalked about in front of him, toying with his prey. Major Sheppard got the feeling he had done this before. Tiny enjoyed watching those he fed upon squirm in fright. This one, however, he noticed hid his fear well. Instead of cowering or begging for mercy as the others had, this one just warily followed his every movement with his eyes.

The Wraith stopped several feet in front of John. "Tell me the code that will lower the shield to your city," he demanded in a raspy voice.

Sheppard remained standing against the wall, not knowing how long he could remain that way before his legs gave way. Here he was, staring death in its face. All he would have to do is answer a simple question…. His eyes were suddenly drawn to the outside hallway. A group of eight Wraith marched past, and judging by their clothing and armament, John could only guess that it was the same group of eight that Hergon had left guarding the Gate. _But why are the coming back here? _he thought. He could only come up with one answer: they were gathering their forces in preparation for taking the city.

His attention snapped back to the present as Tiny took a step toward him. The creature reached out a long, gnarled finger and pressed it to John's throat. He prodded his skin, as a rancher would prod a cow, to find the most tender area of meat.

John drew in a sharp intake of air and could not suppress a shiver. Closing his eyes, he willed it all to disappear. No, he wasn't ready to go; not like this, _anything _but this. He wanted to go down fighting at least, not as the next Insta-cuisine for some ugly-ass alien. He wanted to see more of Atlantis, more of the Pegasus galaxy, and wanted to see Elizabeth at least one last time. Since leaving Earth, his life had only just begun.

Tiny immediately felt the panic emanate from his prey and decided to use it to his advantage. "What is the code to lower Atlantis's shield?" he whispered again slowly as he leaned in toward John's ear.

John remained quiet and kept his eyes shut. He fought to keep his breathing under control. They often said one's entire life flashes before ones eyes when facing death, but John saw nothing. He wondered what that meant. Was it a cruel joke? All he could think of was the terrifying face staring right through his eyelids, through his eyes, and into his soul, about to wrench it from his body and devour it whole.

"This is your last warning, Major Sheppard," Tiny prompted. He sounded almost as if he didn't want his captive to cooperate, just so he would be able to consume him.

His hands were shaking now, something he hoped Tiny did not see. He knew, however, that there would be no hiding the fact since they were still bound in front of him. John didn't care. It would all be over soon. Opening his eyes, he looked at his tormentor and gave him his answer.

Tiny smiled delightfully and wasted no time. "Kneel," he commanded.

John continued to stand, drawing the last of his strength to remain vertical. He didn't know why, but this last act of defiance gave him some small comfort. Perhaps it was knowing his friends and thousands of other humans would be safe, or perhaps it was his refusal to oblige with such loathsome creatures. Either way, all the pain, the torment, the suffering was about to end.

"Kneel!" Tiny ordered again, more forcefully this time. He was growing irritated and his hunger was overwhelming. This prisoner surely tried his patience.

The major continued to disobey his order. It was his last big 'fuck you' to the Wraith and the Klaans.

Grabbing the Stunner by gripstock, Tiny swung the large weapon at John's legs. It hit behind his knees and the force of the blow sent him to the floor. He now kneeled in front of the monstrous Wraith.

Tiny again smiled at the thought of what was to come. He wanted to take pleasure in every last moment of breaking this one, the one who had caused them so much trouble and disruption. With one swift motion, Tiny had cut through the major's shirt, exposing his chest.

_So this is it, then, _John thought. He remembered seeing Colonel Sumner and how much pain he had been in as the Keeper drained the life from of him. The thought sent shivers down his spine. In the past, he had never admitted to being scared, because truthfully he hardly was. But now, he had no problem doing so. John was _terrified, _not because of the agony he was about to endure, but because of something else, something more important. With him gone, who would take care of the city? Who would have the patience to teach Teyla all of Earth's idioms? Who would keep an eye on Ford? Who would let Rodney run crazy experiments on him? Who will take care of_ her_? That was something he didn't want to entrust to anyone else. It was too meaningful, too precious.

With one last look at his captor and one last deep breath, John braced himself for the inescapable. He saw a sadistic grin on Tiny's face as a massive hand rushed toward him. He felt the weight of it against his chest as the Wraith began to feed.

TBC

* * *

Holy crap! Now THAT was an evil cliffy! The good news is that there aren't that many chapters left, so there can't be that many more cliffies. I'm just going to duck now as you throw random objects at my head... 


	20. Small Victories

**Strange Bedfellows**

**A/N: **Yay! 300 reviews (go Belisse, #300)! I feel so happy, until of course I actually read the ones threatening my life, lol. Stop yelling at me:) I didn't want to keep you waiting five days til the next chapter, so here it is. But a warning: the next one may take a little longer because I have sort of a writer's block. I have to be VERY careful how I write it.

I think this story will end at chapter 23, but it's still tentative.

**Chapter 20: Small Victories**

The pain was excruciating, like nothing he had ever experienced before. It radiated from his chest, a thousand knives being thrust into his heart, down through his torso, out to his extremities, and into his head. No tissue, no organ, no bone could escape it; each one felt the crushing weight of the Wraith's hand as it sucked the life from John's body. It was if his body was going to collapse in on itself, implode into one heap of an empty shell.

He had screamed throughout the entire episode as his attempts to stifle any sort of reaction were immediately overcome by an agonizing, draining sensation. The first to go was his sight as his vision grayed around the edges. Then it was his voice as the scream became lodged in his throat. Finally, it was the air. His lungs were being pressed upon so hard that no oxygen could reach them. He was suffocating.

After what seemed like an eternity, Tiny pulled his hand away. Each fingertip was coated in blood which the Wraith looked at hungrily. A matching handprint could be seen on John's chest. Even in his prisoner's weakened condition, he had tasted his defiance, and it had been a delicacy.

As soon as the creature had removed its hand, John's eyes rolled back and he collapsed forward. He hit the floor hard, sending his ribs into spasms of pain. Instinctively, he sucked in a lungful of air, shocked by the fact he was able to do so. _Why am I still alive? _A violent eruption of coughs interrupted his thoughts as he lied on the floor and attempted to regain control of his breathing. He noticed he coughed up blood this time. _Not good_….

Tiny walked in slow circles around the man on the floor. "I have taken one day from your life, Major Sheppard. Tell me what it is we wish to know or I will take them all, one by one."

_One day? _John thought, surprised. Surely that much torture and agony translated into more than one day. He had thought for certain he had bought the farm that time.

The Wraith could see his captive was not about to cooperate and moved on to a new tactic. He approached John, who was now barely conscious and gasping for breath like air was some sort of precious, scarce treasure. After checking the halls and seeing no one was present but Number Two, Tiny knelt down next to the prone prisoner and spoke in quiet tones.

"You must believe by now that we are nothing but the partners of the Klaan people. In fact, I am sure you have gotten the impression that we Wraith are subordinate to Hergon and his men."

John thought about that for a second. It was true; ever since he had been here, it was the humans who had been in control, giving orders to the Wraith and making them do most of the grunt work.

"But I can sense you are smarter than that," Tiny said with a grin. "You must see by now that this partnership is about to fail."

John cast him a questioning look through his half-closed eyelids. He had to fight just to stay awake. If he slipped into unconsciousness, he fknew he wouldn't be waking up.

"Do not look so shocked, Major. We have known for some time the humans are planning a rebellion. We can see it in their eyes; we can sense it. But that does not matter. Once we gain access to your city, will kill all the Klaans and feast upon both their and your people. Then we will lay siege to their village, gathering our strength before traveling to Earth where we will have an endless food supply. It had been our plan from the beginning."

Noticing the look of disgust on John's face, Tiny added, "You did not think this was a sincere alliance, did you?"

_Apparently not, _John thought bitterly. He should have known the most callous race in the universe would have no need and no tolerance for an alliance. It was simply not in their nature. First, it was the Klaans who were going to do the backstabbing. Now, the Wraith were up to a little deceit of their own. _Boy, is Hergon in for a surprise. _He could honestly say, however, that he felt no remorse for what was going to happen to the man.

This entire situation was too complicated for John to sort out at the moment. He couldn't even stay awake without putting up a fight. _What have I gotten myself into?

* * *

_

_Shit, _Ford thought as he eyed the oncoming party of both Wraith and Klaans. There were nine of them and nine of the enemy -a statistic Aiden would gladly take any other day considering their superior firepower. But given the fact that _six _of those nine were Wraith, Wraith that were damn hard to kill… well, his life just got a whole hell of a lot more complicated.

Aiden's group's only choice was to move forward, but their path was currently being blocked the advancing adversaries. They'd be upon the Atlanteans in several seconds. "Fire!" the lieutenant ordered to his team. It wasn't his original plan; they were supposed to slip in and out without being seen. Now, they had just given away their position to the entire outpost.

All nine members of the squad simultaneously opened fire in a well coordinated attack. Depressing the trigger as far as it would go, Lieutenant Ford took aim at the lead Wraith, downing it in less than ten seconds. Soon after, however, it rose to its feet, alive and ready to confront its attacker.

Rodney was quite content with dealing with the humans for now. And while he was no expert marksman by any means, he did hold his own, hitting two of the Klaans before the third was smart enough to take cover. _At least once these guys go down, they stay down._

Teyla opened fire with a full flurry of bursts from her P-90, not caring who she hit. Wraith or Klaan, they were both just as treacherous in her mind. With a little help from Ford, they were finally able to bring down one Wraith for good.

It was slow going for the rest of the team. As soon as they dropped a Wraith, another had healed and risen to wage war. Stunners were fired, forcing the team to temporarily duck behind outcroppings, but they used the time to reload their weapons. In several seconds, they were ready to go once more.

The battled raged on for a good fifteen minutes before it was over. The six Wraith and three Klaans were dead, and miraculously no one from Atlantis was injured - although McKay was about to have a cardiac arrest.

"Someone will have heard that," Ford informed the others. "We need to move, now."

They group sprinted forward silently for one hundred meters or so, passing several hallways, before a scream stopped them dead in their tracks. It was human, and Ford guessed it was the major. Just listening to it sent chills down his spine; it was the most horrifying thing he had ever heard.

"Can you tell where it's coming from?" he asked no one in particular.

"No, sir," Stackhouse answered. "The acoustics are really bad in here. Any sound just bounces of the walls."

_Great, _Ford thought. The one thing he knew, though, was they needed to act now. Picking a direction at random, he took a step forward before Teyla forced him back into hiding. The others followed suit. This time, ten Wraith marched directly toward them. There was no mistaking the purpose and hostility in their step; this group would not be caught unawares as the other had. They knew their foe was there and their single purpose was to destroy them.

"There are ten of them: five groups of two," McKay notified the team, studying his life signs detector. "And, _oh yeah_… they look pissed."

"Still no sign of the major?" asked Teyla, exasperated.

"Nope. Our friends here are the only life signs in the immediate area."

"All right, fire at will," Ford ordered the rest of his team before planting another C4 charge on the wall.

Just as before, theteam executed the same maneuvers as they had several minutes ago. Several of the Marines resorted to grenades, which they found kept the Wraith on the ground longer, but the species was too resilient. This group knew what to expect; they had learned from the others' mistakes. After five whole minutes of trading fire, the Atlanteans had only managed to kill two of the ten Wraith.

Ford slammed himself against the wall, safe for the moment. He popped another magazine into his machine gun and was about to rejoin the fight when movement from _behind_ their position caught his eye. There, emerging from the nearest hallway were five more Wraith. And like their comrades, they were armed with Stunners, but unlike their comrades, they also had the Wraith equivalent of grenades.

_Oh, shit… _"Be advised! There are five more Wraith on our six; there are five more Wraith on our six! Stay sharp, people!" Ford informed his team. He hoped none of them saw his eyes go wide with fear as one of the newest Wraith threw a grenade directly at them. He hoped none of them noticed his breathing stop as it landed five feet in front of him.

* * *

Elizabeth paced nervously in the rear compartment of the Puddle Jumper. It was a bad habit of hers she developed in college, and despite the dozens of international negotiations under her belt, she still could not seem to break herself of it. She had also closed the bulkhead door, blocking any view she had of the outpost. She did not even want to _look _at the terrifying structure of which she had so many horrifying memories. 

Aiden and his team had been gone for forty minutes now, and still they had seen no sign of John. What was taking them so long? Had the Klaans moved him to another location? Was he even still alive? Elizabeth immediately dismissed the thought from her mind. _No, that doesn't make any sense. Aren't you supposed to feel something when something happens to someone you care about? Aren't you supposed to just know?_

A burst of gunfire had suddenly cut across the radio waves, scaring Elizabeth half to death. She had listened fearfully as the Marines fought the first group of Wraith and Klaans. Then there had been the scream. Even over the radio, it was horrific, full of pain and anguish and agony. There was no doubt in her mind who it was, either.

As she was about to radio the lieutenant when a second firefight erupted. From what she could discern between the sound of the P-90s expelling rounds, the squad was trapped between two groups of Wraith and outnumbered. They were pinned down.

Elizabeth shut her ears to the cacophony of noise coming through her earpiece. It was all too much; she couldn't think. There was no way Ford's group of men would be able to find John - if he was still around to find - while they were stuck between twobloodthirsty enemies. There was nothing she could do about that. She _could_, however….

_No, I can't. I can't go back in there._

_Yes, you _can, _Elizabeth. You're stronger than that. _As she mentally argued with herself, she recalled all those times in her career when she herself had beat the odds. When someone doubted her ortold her she couldn't do it, she did it, if only to prove them wrong. Granted, this situation was a little different than a political negotiation… but she supposed that didn't matter now. The same circumstances applied, and the same doubt she had only once again fueled her determination.

Looking at the handgun Ford had given her, Elizabeth thought about just how bad an idea this was. She grabbed an extra magazine for the 9 mil and shoved it in her thigh pocket. She wished she had a life signs detector, but since she didn't have the Ancient gene it wouldn't have done her any good anyway.

Steeling herself, Elizabeth opened the rear hatch before she was able to talk herself out of what she was about to do. Looking around first to make sure she had no unwanted visitors, she walked around to the front of the Jumper and stopped. There looming above her was the last place in the universe she wanted to go, but one place she needed to be.

With one last deep breath, Elizabeth began walking toward the entrance.

* * *

The grenade was so close Aiden could count the rings in the middle of the egg-shaped object. The orange light in the center began to blink faster and faster. He wasn't sure what that meant, but figured any blinking device on a weapon couldn't be good. If that grenade exploded, all nine members of his team would be blown to smithereens. 

Without so much as a second thought, Lt. Ford ran directly at the explosive. After a three foot sprint, he slid himself baseball-style on the floor and kicked the grenade back toward the Wraith from who it had came.

Now that his momentum had stopped, the lieutenant lied out in the open on the ground. If not for Teyla and the other Marines providing cover fire, Ford would have surely caught the blast of a Wraith Stunner. In about two seconds, though,he would be exposed to the full force explosion.

Seeing Aiden stranded out in the open, McKay did the only thing he could think of: he lunged himself toward the Marine. Landing on his belly, Rodney grabbed Aiden's shoulders and pulled him back toward safety.

The charge flew through the air at the group of Wraith. They saw it but too late; as soon as it reached them, the timer ran out and it detonated, immediately knocking three of the five Wraith to the ground.

McKay and Ford ducked behind an outcropping just in time. Bits and pieces of shrapnel from the blast sailed past their heads. Collapsing to the floor from the exertion, Rodney shut his eyes and began panting heavily. _Holy crap. Did I just do that?_

Ford caught his breath. Eyeing McKay appreciatively, he had to admit he was pleasantly surprised at this new side of the scientist. He didn't think the man had it in him. The McKay he knew - or at least the McKay that had initially signed on for this expedition - would have _never _risked his neck for someone else. "Thanks," Ford said simply.

Rodney waved his hand dismissively. "Anytime," he managed between gasps while rolling his eyes. _Remind me to never do that again. Oh boy, I need to get in shape._

While McKay worked on not passing out, Ford jumped to his feet and assessed the situation. The group of five Wraith to their rear had been narrowed down to two; Teyla had made sure the those that had been knocked down by the grenade didn't get back up.

Lieutenant Ford split his team, ordering most to direct their fire at the now seven Wraith to their front while three Marines focused on the two to their back.

The mêlée raged on. Slowly but surely, the Marines whittled their enemy's numbers down. The two Wraith to the rear were either more clever or simply had better reflexes than the other group, because while the latter had only three remaining members of its original ten after half an hour, the other cluster's two members continued to survive during the onslaught.

Just when Ford thought they were on the verge of victory, three new Wraith marched down the hallway in front of them to take the place of their fallen comrades. "Heads up, people," he warned, unable to keep the disappointment from his voice. "We've got three more Steves approaching from our twelve o'clock. That makes six plus the two behind us."

_Oh yeah. This is going to be a _long _day.

* * *

_

John's eyes jerked open at the sound of a grenade exploding. He had been fighting the blackness that had been encroaching upon his consciousness for the past half hour. Several moments ago, he had thought he had heard the unmistakable sound of a P-90 being fired but had dismissed it as merely a hallucination of his fatigued mind. But there was no mistaking the definite sound of a grenade detonation. _What the hell is going on out there?_

The noise brought up the heads of both Tiny and Number Two, confusion registering on both their faces. The latter looked to his superior for an explanation, but the mammoth Wraith had none. "Go," he ordered. "Find Hergon and report back to me when you have discovered what is happening."

Wraith Number Two nodded and walked quickly down the hallway.

John heard the gunfire again. _Definitely P-90s, _he decided, but they were still too far away.

Tiny whipped around to face his prisoner, a look of pure rage on his face. "It seems your friends have a death wish of their own."

John smiled as he saw something he never would have thought he would have seen on a Wraith: sweat. Tiny was edgy, worried that he wouldn't get his information before time ran out. The creature may have put on a brave front, but deep down he knew his chance at a never-ending food supply was slowly slipping through his fingers. Tiny was becoming unhinged, unpredictable.

Suddenly, without warning, Tiny lunged his arm forward and encircled John's throat with his hand. He yanked him to his knees and began to squeeze.

"Tell me the access codes to the city!"

* * *

Elizabeth crept through the entrance to the outpost. The cold, dark, and stench of the place immediately caused her to stiffen. Her breathing quickened once more but her feet did not stop. _Stay strong_…. As soon as she entered the building, she immediately spotted the firefight several hundred yards ahead of her. The bodies of Wraith were scattered all over the floor. It looked like a World War had been fought. 

Internal instincts took over and Elizabeth scrambled to the nearest wall for protection. Inching up the hallway and momentarily ducking behind obstacles along the wall, she made her way forward as quietly as possible. Her mind raced as she thought of where they would keep John. The interrogation room? The cell? Either way, she would have to get deeper into the outpost.

Elizabeth eyed the nearest intersecting corridor. It was in front of the current scuffle, so if she timed it right…. There was still the problem of getting across the hallway she was currently in without being seen. It was certainly dark enough, but the fact that her closest company was a pair of Wraith didn't do anything to calm her already frayed nerves.

She decided to make a mad dash for the corridor. _Now or never_…. _Okay, on three. One, two, thr-_

The sudden appearance of two individuals she never wanted to see again stopped her short. Out from the very corridor she was about to enter came Number Two and Hergon. As soon as they had stepped out onto the floor, Ford and several other Marines took aim at the Wraith, deeming him the more dangerous threat of the two.

What happened next shocked Elizabeth. Number Two grabbed Hergon by the neck and used the human's body as a shield, having to duck slightly behind the shorter man's stature. Up until now, Elizabeth had thought Number Two, like the rest of the Wraith, was loyal to the Klaan commander. Obviously, she had been wrong. There was more to this 'alliance' than met they eye.

Hergon himself was equally as shocked. He struggled against his captor, his face registering both confusion and anger at his partner's treachery. Number Two, however, held fast, not letting go of his human armor. Hergon noticed that none of the Wraith looked surprised at all. It was at that moment he realized his fate had been sealed from the moment he had entered into this agreement with the Wraith. The player himself had been played.

The battle was temporarily put on pause as this new detail unfolded; the silence was deafening compared to the racket of only moments ago. Aiden, confused but not deterred, continued to keep his sight aimed at the pair.

"If you shoot, human," Wraith Number Two shouted, his words echoing in the large structure, "one of your own dies!" The creature continued to drag his hostage across the floor to the pair of Wraith closest to him, where he could be armed with a Stunner.

Hergon smiled. He remembered this one, Lieutenant Ford. He was loyal, inexperienced, and Hergon guessed not too confident without his CO there to tell him what to do. There was no way he was going to die by the hands of this man.

Lieutenant Ford's weapon never wavered. Hergon _was _one of their own, a fellow human. If he killed him, what made him any different than the very enemy he was fighting? But he was also a monster, a monster just as evil as the Wraith. No, he was worse. While the Wraith killed only for food, this man had done so out of sheer malevolence and savagery. He had sold out his own kind. Ford had seen with his own eyes what he had done to Dr. Weir, had heard with his own ears what was being done to his own CO, and could only imagine what other torture this man had inflicted upon not only his two friends but upon other humans as well.

Looking the man he hated most right now directly in the eye, Ford pressed on the trigger of his P-90 twice. The bullets found their mark in the chest of the Klaan commander. They entered the lung, just as Ford had planned, and started Hergon on his way to a slow and painful death. Soon, blood would begin filling the organ, drowning the man in his own body's fluid. Aiden couldn't think of a better death for the hateful bastard.

Hergon dropped away to the floor, a look of disbelief in his eyes. Number Two's expression mirrored the commander's, but it was soon wiped clean as two more bullets entered the Wraith's head. Teyla didn't think her shots would have killed the creature, but it was a start.

Soon the battle began again.

Elizabeth watched the scene unfold before her eyes. It was certainly an odd incident, but she didn't have time to ponder it now. Using the recently revived firefight as a distraction, she sprinted across the hallway and into the corridor.

After cautiously walking several hundred feet, she realized she had absolutely no idea where she was. All the passageways looked the same to her. Fear began to well up inside her. What if she didn't find him in time? What if they found her first?

Before she knew it, she was standing in front of the door to the interrogation room. Elizabeth listened intently. There were no sounds coming from behind the door, but she had to be sure. Raising her Beretta in her shaking hands, she threw open the door. Empty.

_Dammit. Okay, the cell. Which is where…? _There. A hallway she recognized, one she had unfortunately traveled one too many times. She remembered it more or less led directly to the cell, with one last right-hand turn at the end

Another scream interrupted her thoughts. This one was more muffled and was cut off, ending abruptly. It was preceded by a voice, Elizabeth guessed Wraith, who had shouted something, something about a code. It had definitely been a demand.

Throwing caution to the wind, Elizabeth ran straight for the cell, not bothering to duck behind outcroppings for protection. She needed to get there and get there fast. Ignoring the pain from her knee which had once again flared up, she covered the distance in a minute and a half. It had felt like hours to her.

One last corner before she reached the cell. Slowing her pace to a walk, she stopped before rounding the bend, afraid of what she might find. Lifting her 9 mil once more, the once gun-shy diplomat straightened her arms and prepared herself for what was next.

The darkness was going to make this all the harder. _Don't shoot at what you can't see, don't shoot at what you can't see, don't shoot at what you can't see_…. At least she had remembered that much from her basic weaponry class.

With one last deep breath, she spun around the corner and gasped at the horrific scene in front of her. There, facing her direction, was John. He was on his knees and appeared to be teetering on the verge of unconsciousness - or at least Elizabeth hoped it was unconsciousness and not something worse. His eyes were foggy and unfocused, and overall he looked _awful. _Elizabeth didn't know how this man had made it this far alive.

The only thing keeping John upright was the Wraith she recognized as Tiny. His back was to her as he held John tightly by the neck, so tightly in fact that John's face was turning blue from the lack of oxygen. His bound hands, scrawny in comparison to the Wraith's, were around Tiny's in a frail attempt to push the creature away. With each passing second, Elizabeth noticed John's motions became less frequent and his body more limp.

"What is the code to lower Atlantis's shield?" the Wraith demanded.

John remained quiet. He didn't even know if he could answer if he wanted to; the grip around his neck was so strong.

Tiny hissed at the major's insolence. "You have made a great mistake, Major Sheppard." He pulled back his hand once more and prepared to drain John of his life - all of it this time.

Without wasting another second, Elizabeth emptied the contents of the magazine into the back of Tiny's skull. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten rounds fired from close distance, and ten rounds hitting their mark. Into each shot, Elizabeth poured every ounce of rage, every feeling of hatred she had for the creature and what he had done to John.

The Wraith, however, was only stunned by the attack. He turned around, more angered than hurt, to face his aggressor.

Elizabeth saw Tiny turn toward her. _Oh, shit, _she thought as she frantically fished for her spare magazine in her pockets. _Where is it, where _is _it_…. Her fingers finally found the metal object she was looking for and hurriedly ripped it out of her thigh pocket and popped it into her gun. Remembering to cock the weapon, she took aim and fired again. Just as before, she emptied all ten rounds into the Wraith's head, this time at even a closer range.

It managed to stop Tiny in his tracks. The look of anger on his face slowly transformed into puzzlement, but he remained standing.

Elizabeth began to slowly back away. This Wraith just wasn't dying for some reason. She had emptied twenty rounds into his skull and still it was alive. Remembering Carson's theory on how the Wraith's healing capability is directly proportional to how recently its fed, she looked at John's chest. There was a giant, hand-shaped marking on his chest from which small trickles of blood flowed. _Oh, Jesus_... Suddenly Elizabeth wished there were a few more bullets left in her gun for Tiny.

The Wraith began to sway slightly, stopping Elizabeth's retreat. Then ever-so-slowly, Tiny toppled over to the floor, dead.

Now with the threat gone, she rushed immediately to John's side. With nothing to hold him up, however, he began to fall.

John had seen the Wraith go down, although why had been a mystery to him. As the Wraith fell, a figure came into view. Someone had a gun pointed directly at where the Tiny had just been. A woman. Someone familiar. _Eliz… Elizabeth?_

Not able to keep the darkness at bay any loner, he succumbed to it. He was too tired to fight it any longer. As the blackness began to creep in and pull him under, he fell. He fell slowly and felt himself hitting the ground, but John kept plummeting. The last thing he remembered seeing was the woman rushing toward him with a panicked expression on her face as he fell into a deep, dark abyss.

TBC

* * *

You didn't really think I would make John old, did you?Imho, he looks fine the way he is, lol.

Yay!Tiny and Hergon are dead! Everyone do a happy dance.


	21. Extraction

**Strange Bedfellows**

**A/N: **Ha!The update wasn't late after all.AndI got over my writer's block! Hooray! So much so, in fact, that my fingers kept on typing and I ended up with an extra chapter. And after I write the last one, which will be soon, the updates will come quicker. I have to get this thing posted before I go on vacation to Chicago. Otherwise, you guys will kill me. :)

Thanks for the reviews once again! So here it is, the last part of the climax. Hope it was all worth while. Oh, and my beta had offically abandoned me, so any mistakes are mine. I apologize.

**Chapter 21: Extraction**

There was blackness everywhere. John felt nothing; it was like an black emptiness in and around him. He opened his eyes to see, but there was nothing to look at. Did he even have any eyes anyway? He couldn't feel his body, that was for sure. As he instinctively tried to suck in a lungful of oxygen, Sheppard realized there was no air to suck in. It was like a vacuum, an endless vacuum to which there was no end or beginning.

_Hey_…. _This is kind of nice_, he thought, suddenly becoming more comfortable. _Once you get over the whole no air thing. _He could get used to this. No worries, no daily chores, no exertion, no pain. Hadn't he practically been on the verge of dying a second ago? Where was he anyway?

Then there was an unexpected burst of white light - a searing, bright flash. It made him uncomfortable; it slightly hurt even. But just as soon as it had come, the mysterious flash was gone and he was back floating in the black void.

Several seconds later, it came again, only stronger this time. _Ow! Hey, stop that! _It shocked his body like a jolt of electricity through his entire system. John tried to scream, but no sound escaped his throat. He was at the mercy of whatever that thing was. The only thing he could come up with wasthat aWraith Stunner was firing at him.

After a moment of rest, it happened a third and final time. It was stronger than ever. Suddenly, he remembered that this sensation was oddly familiar - excruciating, but familiar. But did that mean a Wraith Stunner or something else all together?

Suddenly, just like that, it was over. Blackness consumed him once more, but he felt grounded this time. Just as after the Wraith had fed upon him, he was completely drained… but different. It didn't matter. For now, he was content with just resting, just letting go.

* * *

The infirmary was bustling with activity. Doctors and nurses darted about in nervous tension as orders from Doctor Beckett were shouted across the room with authority. Several Marines occupied the hospital beds, some sitting while others lied down, and all were being attended to by medical professionals. The sounds of carts being hastily wheeled through the room and various machines beeping did nothing to calm the chaos. 

But Dr. Elizabeth Weir neither saw nor heard any of it. From her position seated on a chair in the corner of the room, her eyes remained fixed on one particular hospital bed, as they had been for a while now. The team had returned from Klaan just over two hours ago following a brutal extraction, and even after they had completed a brief medical exam on her - at Carson's insistence - Elizabeth had refused to leave the infirmary. The only reason she wasn't at his side was because they had already shooed her away.

She couldn't see the occupant due to the numerous medical personnel huddled around the bed, all working on saving the man's life. But she didn't need to see him to know what kind of state he was in. She had seen enough when they had went back for him. He had been in bad shape, and his condition had only deteriorated since.

_-Flashback-_

Elizabeth saw John's eyes take on a glassy quality before he fell forward to the ground. She tried to reach his side before he impacted with the cell's floor, but she wasn't fast enough.

After sidestepping Tiny's lifeless body, she reached him and noticed with a sharp intake of breath that he was absolutely still. Elizabeth didn't think she had ever seen anything that completely and utterly motionless in her life. Cautiously, she reached a hand out to turn him over, but paused, afraid of what she might find. Determination, however, at getting him home overtook her and she rolled John to his back.

Elizabeth gasped at the sight. This was the first time she had really seen him since she had stepped through the Gate five days ago. He had looked bad then, and from what she had glimpsed from the shadows seconds ago he had gotten much worse. But now, up close, she could see what he had gone through. More cuts and bruises than she could count lined his pallid, sweat-sheened face; his left eye was black and swollen shut; blood, dirt, and sweat caked his hair; his lip was split - and that was only what she could see. She could only imagine what _else_ had been done to him.

"John? John, can you hear me?" she beckoned.

There was no answer. His eyes remained shut and his body unmoving.

"Please, John. Wake up." Now she was starting to get nervous; her voice was strained. Noticing once more the bloody hand print on his chest, she traced her finger lightly along the mark. _If he was fed upon, why hadn't he aged?_ That was a mystery that could be solved later; there were more important things to worry about now.

Leaning her head down to his chest, Elizabeth listened for his heartbeat. It was there - faint, but there. She then sat up and observed him, watching for the rise and fall of his ribcage that would tell her he was breathing. She waited what seem like an eternity, eyes glued to his torso, afraid even to blink for fear that she would miss him inhale. And then it came, so small that she almost didn't catch it: a shallow, frail breath that made Elizabeth exhale breath of her own she did not even realize she was holding.

_Hang in there, _she willed him as she reached for her radio. "Lt. Ford, this is in." Her words were calm, completely belying the anxiety she felt inside.

"This is Ford!" came the reply over the radio. Aiden had to shout over the gunfire to be heard. Luckily, the battle had died down somewhat over the past several minutes. Number Two had been relatively easy to take care of once Teyla had planted two bullets in his head. The six Wraith to their front had been cut down to three, plus the seemingly impervious pair behind them. Those two were clever _and _tough - a unfortunate combination for Aiden and his team.

"Is the coast still clear outside Jumper?" he asked. "Things are pretty wild in here, ma'am, so once we get the major we'll be coming in hot."

Elizabeth sighed. She could tell this was not going to go well. "I'm not in the Jumper. I'm in the outpost, in a holding cell." She paused and waited for an answer.

There was none. Then, after several seconds of silence, "You're _what! _Where?"

"You heard me, Lieutenant." She didn't have time for this. If Ford didn't like it, that was too damn bad. "Major Sheppard is here with me. He's unconscious but is breathing and has a weak pulse. Look, Aiden… he's in pretty bad shape. If we don't get him out of here soon-"

"Understood, ma'am. Standby." She didn't need to say anymore. In fact, Ford didn't _want _her to say anymore, didn't want her to say what might happen. He didn't even want to _think _about it. Right now, he had to quickly come up with an exit strategy.

While the lieutenant strategized, Elizabeth took the time to further examine John. The bruises on his ribs she had seen before had grown and darkened; the makeshift bandage around his arm was soaked through with blood, and she could see a yellow substance brimming the edge of it - an indication of a sure infection. Overall, he looked exhausted, beaten, and frail; he was a shell of his former self. Suddenly she wished for the cocky flyboy who always deviated from orders or questioned her instructions.

A sudden crackle on the radio brought her out of her stupor. "Okay, ma'am, we have a plan in place but it's going to be a little… _tricky_."

_Uh-oh. _She didn't like the sound of 'tricky.'

"Do you think you can move Major Sheppard?"

"Maybe… if I have to. But there's no way I can make it all the way back to you with him. You'll have to meet us somewhere."

There was a pause. "All right, standby."

_Goddammit, _she thought, rolling her eyes. There was no time for another 'standby.' They had to move and they had to move now.

"Okay, ma'am, here's the deal. Get the yourself and the major as close to us as you can. We'll send some men down the first hallway and hopefully we'll be able to pick you up on the life signs detector. Stay in radio contact. Then, we'll meet up, rendezvous back with the rest of the team, and leave."

"Sounds like a plan, Lieutenant," she responded. Elizabeth didn't ask how Ford's team were going to get past the Wraith.

* * *

Ford sighed. He didn't know how the hell they were going to get past the Wraith. They didn't need to get to the exit, just back to the first corridor for now. His team would hold that position while he and some of his men set off to meet up with Dr. Weir. _Then _they would blow this Popsicle stand.

"Stackhouse, how many grenades do we have left?" he asked.

"By my count, two, sir," the sergeant responded.

"_Two?" _Stackhouse nodded. "That's it?" Again, the sergeant nodded. Grenades had been the only thing that knocked the Wraith down for a good long while. What machine guns did in almost an entire clip, one grenade could take care of. And apparently, they had used up most of their stock. _Shit. Two grenades. Five Wraith. This day sucks, _Ford concluded. _No, you know what? This whole _month _sucks. I'm taking a vacation when we get back._

"Okay, team, listen up," he began. "We only have two grenades left. So on my mark, Porter, you throw one at the three Wraith at out twelve o'clock. Webber, chuck the other at the pair on our tail. We'll have to time it just right, because after the second grenade goes off, we're making a mad dash to that first corridor over there. Me, Stranahan, and McKay will be going to get the major and Dr. Weir while the rest of you hold the fort. Questions?"

As before, there were none, so the team went ahead with the plan. On Ford's signal, two grenades were thrown in opposite directions. As soon as they exploded several seconds later, the team members ran for all they were worth, guns blazing, right _past _the pair of Wraith that had been at their six for the majority of the battle. Luckily, the creatures were too stunned to react and the team was able to get in place before Stunners were raised once more and firing.

Not wanting to waste any more time, Ford led McKay and Stranahan down the corridor. The sounds of the scuffle died away the deeper into the outpost they traveled. Ford stopped and regular intervals, but only briefly each time, to place more C4 charges on the walls.

With the aid of McKay's life signs detector, the trio was able to locate Dr. Weir and Major Sheppard within ten minutes. As soon as they had spotted Elizabeth dragging John's body down the hallway, all three had broken into a sprint. Ford reached them first and instantly dropped to his knees to check on his CO. Dr. Weir had been right; he did look awful. In fact, if Elizabeth hadn't told him otherwise, Ford would have believed the major dead.

He checked the man's pulse and didn't like the results he received. Whatever poise was left in Ford's body vanished and concern for hid friend's well-being took over. "Major, can you hear me?"

McKay watched on in silence, despondency and disbelief marring his face. He never thought it would be this bad. He had seen Sheppard in tight spots before, and he always managed to pull himself out of them, one way or another. This time would be no different, right? He'd pull through, wouldn't he? Simply looking at the major made McKay think otherwise. The pilot looked liked he'd been ran over by a truck and hauled behind a stampede of horses. And despite John's tendency at beating the odds, Rodney didn't know if _anyone _could make it out of this one.

All of the lieutenant's attempts at rousing his superior were met with failure. They couldn't afford to linger any longer. "Stackhouse, this is Ford. Be advised: we have Dr. Weir and Major Sheppard with us and are making our way to your position. ETA: five minutes."

"Understood, Lieutenant. We'll be ready for you."

Despite the dead weight of the major, who was being carried between Stranahan and Ford, they were able to make good time. Rodney attributed that to the desperation of their situation. It was his job to watch the life signs detector, keeping an eye out for any unwanted company, but he found his thoughts wandering. _What if Sheppard doesn't make it? What if _none _of us make it? _He resisted every fiber of his being, all telling him to calculate the odds of their survival. McKay was sure he wouldn't like the answer he got.

Rodney noticed Elizabeth's unusual silence during the trek back. She seemed distant, staring at the unconscious body being carried in front of her. She had not uttered a word since they had met up.

Finally, they reached the rest of the team back at the entrance of the corridor. They were all busy returning fire to the now four Wraith in front of them. When Ford and Stranahan laid down the major, however, Teyla stopped firing out of sheer shock at the man's condition. Her once spirited CO now seemed sapped of all life. Noticing the Wraith palm print on his chest, she brought her P-90 up with renewed purpose and let rip with an extended burst of fire until her clip was empty.

Ford's head swam. He needed to think of a way to get themselves out of the outpost. There was the exit, off to their left onlyabout ten meters away. It might as well been ten kilometers away, because once they stepped out into the open, they were toast. And they were out of grenades, too. _Peachy, _he thought.

"Everyone, listen up. When I give the word, I want you to fire everything you've got at the remaining four Wraith. Lay down enough cover fire for Stackhouse and Webber to carry the major back to the Jumper. Stackhouse, when you reach the Jumper, get it up and running immediately."

"Yes, sir." Stackhouse shifted to John's side and prepared him to move.

Lieutenant Ford addressed the rest of his team. "Once they're through the exit, everyone else fall back, McKay and Dr. Weir first. And no one stops firing, got it?" They all nodded.

Aiden remembered he had some extra C4 he hadn't used. Yet. Waiting until the Wraith had taken a momentary pause in firing their Stunners, he stood up and threw the explosives as far as he could toward the Wraith's position. It landed several feet from the creatures.

Once he was sure everything was good to go, he gave the signal. The Marines sprang up as one from behind cover and fired for all they were worth at their enemy, causing the four Wraith to scramble for safety. One was hit and dropped to the floor.

Using the team's cover fire as a shield, Stackhouse and Webber hurriedly carried John through the exit and out to the Puddle Jumper.

"Reload!" Ford yelled, and the remaining members of the team dropped back down and reloaded their weapons. The Wraith took the opportunity to return fire. They did not ease up, keeping the humans ducked behind the walls of the corridor and outcroppings.

"Sir, this is Stackhouse," came a voice over the radio. "We have reached the Puddle Jumper and I've brought it online, but… sir, the major's in pretty bad shape." A pause. "Webber can't find a pulse."

Aiden understood the implication. If they didn't leave now, Sheppard would die. "Understood. We're coming out now."

The Wraith continued to pepper their location with blasts from their Stunners. They weren't giving up their prized prisoner without a fight. Ford would have liked to wait until the enemy took a break in firing, but they simply couldn't afford to. Time was a luxury they didn't have. On his order, the Marines stood up from their concealed positions once more and began their coordinated assault. They weren't as lucky as last time, however. Porter was immediately hit with a Stunner blast to the chest. He went down almost as soon as he had stood up.

While the Wraith were distracted, the civilians, Drs. McKay and Weir, ran for the exit as Ford had ordered. Once outside, they headed for the Jumper Stackhouse had now uncloaked.

Inside, Ford had seen McKay and Dr. Weir make it out safely and began the move his team out. A fellow Marine grabbed Porter and dragged him outside. Two down, three to go.

While Ford was looking at the open doorway, he caught the image of a blue beam heading straight for his head out of the corner of his eye. His instincts and fast reflexes allowed him to duck in time, but the Marine behind him wasn't so lucky. The Stunner blast caught him in the shoulder and knocked him to the ground.

_Jesus Christ, this is insane, _Aiden thought. He and the other remaining Marine were able to pick up their fallen comrade and retreat through the exit, firing a their foe all the while. Once the sunlight hit them, however, they turned and ran for the ship.

Just when they thought they were home free, however, the hairs on the back of Aiden's neck stood on end. The two teammates heard the blasts before they saw them shoot past. The Stunners' beams were so close they could feel their wake. As Webber and Stackhouse covered for them from the Jumper, Ford and the other Marine continued to run while they carried their unconscious teammate between them until they had reached the ramp of the ship.

"Let's get this thing in the air!" Aiden yelled between breaths. Sergeant Stackhouse was already ahead of him, flicking switches in the forward compartment even before he had sat down. The rear hatch closed and up they rose, all team members present and accounted for. When they were a good enough distance in the air, Ford took extreme pleasure in pressing a button on his handheld detonator unit. A split second later, all the C4 charges they had planted inside the outpost exploded in one giant eruption, engulfing the entire structure in flames. If there had been any Klaans or Wraith still inside, they were dead for certain now.

As the Jumper pulled away, Stackhouse fired two drones at the cluster of three Wraith who had chased them outside. That was the last of them.

Ford ordered Stackhouse to fly at full speed back to the Gate. They would be needing every extra second. The lieutenant walked over to check on his CO, who had been laid down on the floor in the rear compartment. Webber had reported no pulse earlier, but Aiden double checked, just in case. He searched for the carotid artery for a good long while before he finally found what he was looking for. A pulse was there, but it was even weaker than before. He could see why Webber had missed it. _Hang in there, Major. Almost home_….

McKay and Teyla keptwatch over their friend. There was nothing more they could do but wait and hope. Teyla sent a silent prayer to the Ancestors, pleading with them to save the man who had given her people so much faith.

The second they were within range of the Stargate, Ford dialed Atlantis's address and entered his IDC, practically jamming the buttons with the force he pressed them with.

"Jumper Three, this is Atlantis," Grodin's voice came over the radio. "We have lowered the shield; you are clear to come through."

"Copy that, Atlantis," Ford replied, not hiding his eagerness to return home. "We're going to need a full medical team in the Jumper bay. We have three wounded on board, one serious."

"Understood, Lieutenant."

"And tell Beckett-"

"Lieutenant!" A voice from the rear compartment cut him off. It was Teyla, and she was kneeled down beside Major Sheppard. She looked scared. "Lieutenant, Major Sheppard is not breathing! And I cannot hear his heart beating, either!"

The words hit him like a hammer. Ford rushed back to where she was crouched. After confirming what Teyla had said, he started barking orders to whoever would listen. The portable defibrillator was brought out from one of the overhead bins while the manual air pump was handed to him from the emergency kit. _Okay, I did this to him once before, _he thought, trying to instill faith in himself. _Piece of cake... Who are you kidding, Aiden? It didn't even work last time!_

Pushing those thought from his mind, he charged the machine, placed the paddles on John's chest, and pressed the button. A jolt of electricity coursed through the major's body, causing his back to arch in stiffness before his entire body went limp again. Teyla pressed the breathing apparatus over John's mouth and pumped three times.

"Still no pulse," one of the Marines announced.

"Come on, Major…" Ford pleaded. "A fewmore seconds; just hang in there…." After the defibrillator was fully charged once more, he and Teyla repeated the process. They yielded the same results as before.

Aiden threw the machine aside in disgust and began to perform manual CPR.

McKay watched from the side as his friend slowly slipped away. This scene was all too familiar. But at least when John had the Wraith-tic stuck on his neck, they were able to put his body in suspended animation by taking him through the wormhole. There was no such option this time. He would be either alive or dead by the time they reached Atlantis, and the way things were going so far…. Rodney slowly sat down on one of the Jumper's seats. He closed his eyes and rested his head on the bulkhead in despair.

Elizabeth watched in horror from her seat. She didn't trust her legs to support her body weight right now. Confusion registered on her face. How could this happen? It had worked before, hadn't it? Why wasn't he pulling through? He could pull through anything; what was taking so long this time?

Teyla stood up suddenly and began to pace, rubbing her hand over her mouth nervously. Her eyes darted from wall to wall, landing on everything but the major's body.

Tears began to well up in Elizabeth's eyes as she watched Aiden persistently press on John's heart at regular intervals. It was all happening in slow motion. But his valiant efforts weren't working. John was dying. They had tried their best, but it didn't look like it would be enough.

The last image she saw before the Puddle Jumper crossed the event horizon was the lieutenant crouching defeatedly over the man she cared for.

_-End Flashback-_

That had been two hours ago. When they had reached the Jumper bay, Carson had immediately rushed into the Jumper and had tried to revive John. After two minutes of failure, they were finally able to restart his heart. He had a weak pulse, but at least it was something.

It had been touch and go since then. His body had refused to cooperate; his heart had stopped on two other occasions. Luckily, they were able to restart it each time, but it was obvious it had taken a toll on Major Sheppard. If his heart should stop again, Beckett didn't know if he'd be able to resuscitate him a third time.

John was currently lying on one of the infirmary beds, still unconscious, with all sorts of machines attached to him. The medical team had been trying to stabilize him for the past two hours while nurses had performed a routine exam on the rest of the squad. Teyla, McKay, Ford, Dr. Weir, and most of the Marines had checked out okay, but the two who had been hit with Stunners were kept for observation. According to Beckett, they would be fine in a few hours.

Carson wished he had time to check on his other patients, but he hadn't been able to spare one minute since the major had been rolled in. He knew if he left even for one second, it was during that second something would go wrong. Not that he didn't put his complete trust in his team, but he preferred to be there himself - just in case.

He had noticed that Elizabeth hadn't left, either. Carson couldn't blame her. And as much as he wanted to urge her to get some rest, he knew she would just call him a hypocrite and continue to stay. The look on her face told him to not even try. The entire time she had watched on anxiously but remained silent.

The doctor turnined his attention back to John. He had done everything he could for now; they would have to wait a while before they could do more. Any more shock to his system could put him into arrest, and then they would lose him for sure.

Carson just hoped he would survive the night.

TBC

* * *

Okay, all you lurkers out there, it's time for you to review! I know you're out there... there's 52 members on the author alert list but not even half that amount review each chapter. Just push the nice little button in the left hand corner of the screen and type some junk in the box so I can feel happy. :)

That was it for the action and whumping. Everything from here on out will be wrapping it up; but don't worry, more important stuff happens. :)


	22. Questions

**Strange Bedfellows**

**A/N:** See what happens when you lurkers review? A quick update! Hint hint. Thanks to those people, and of course, to those reviewers who have been there from ch 1. Blue Banrigh, thanks for catching that. I tried to fix the typo but it wouldn't let me. :( Stonedtoad, thanks for the offer, but since it's almost done and I'm in a hurry to get it posted, I think I'll just proofread it a million times myself. :)

I'm not a doctor or anything, so if I goof up on any of the medical references, I'm sorry. I only have a basic understanding of medicine, and although I did do LOTS of research, some of the stuff is pretty confusing (for me at least). I think I got it right, though.

I finished writing the entire story; I just have to tweak it before posting. Up to 25 chapters! Urgh, I know. Ch 24 was 20 pages so I had to split it. But the updates will be coming just as quickly as this one did, and the entire story will be up by Tues. :)

**Chapter 22: Questions**

_24 Hours Later_

Dr. Beckett could not afford to wait any longer. While it was important to allow the major's body to rest, they needed had act quickly if they were going to keep him alive. It was risky to perform surgery while the patient was in such a weakened condition, but in this case, Carson deemed in riskier _not _to. Thus he was now involved in a delicate balancing act where the stakes were a man's life. Time was the real problem here; if they went in too early, they risked putting John into cardiac arrest, but if they waited too long, he would surely succumb to his injuries.

Luckily, the operation had gone off without a hitch. While it had gotten dicey at times, John had pulled through. The doctor changed out of his scrubs and back into his lab coat before stealing a glance at the waiting room outside. He could see shadows on the far wall; no doubt it was one of John's teammates pacing in apprehension. Teyla, Rodney, and Ford had all camped out outside the infirmary after they themselves had undergone a routine exam and had washed up. They hadn't left since, except to grab a bite to eat or a cup of coffee. And even then, Carson noticed with a smile, they had taken shifts, flipping coins each time to see who the unlucky one was who had to run to the mess hall. That person, though, would always have their radio on, just in case something happened during the two minutes they were away. No doubt they _ran_ through the hallways, too.

Dr. Beckett approached the waiting room. Sure enough, they were all assembled on the various pieces of furniture. Teyla sat in a chair, her back hunched while her eyes were cast at the far wall in a blank stare. Rodney lied sprawled out on one of the couches, face to the ceiling. His mouth lay wide open and he snored loudly. Ford, however, chose to remain upright. The lieutenant paced back and forth quickly and bit his nails. He looked worried to say the least, but so lost in thought was he that he didn't even notice the doctor's presence.

And then there was Elizabeth. She lied curled up on the other couch, fast asleep. Rodney had draped John's jacket over her before he himself had dozed off. She hadn't moved from her spot since they had returned, except for when Carson had rushed her out of the infirmary itself before the surgery. Even with her eyes closed, she looked worn and full of concern. Beckett felt sorry for her.

"You had better stop pacing, lad, or you'll wear a hole through my floor," the Scot greeted Aiden.

His words seem to jolt Ford out of his trance. He immediately stopped and looked up expectantly at the doctor. Teyla, too, was pulled from her reverie.

Rodney, however, continued to snore. Loudly. Ford seemed to notice it for the first time and threw his cap at the sleeping man. McKay snorted and swiped his hand at an imaginary foe. "Uunnhh…. Hey, can't a man get a little sleep around this-" He stopped short and bolted upright, realizing. "Any news?" he asked.

"Aye, but I think we had better wake her first." As much as Carson wanted to let Elizabeth sleep, he knew that once she had found out there was news about Major Sheppard that she hadn't been awoken for, she'd have his head on a platter. Not that he blamed her, it was just that she had been through the most out of all of them, given her closeness to the major.

Rodney gently rocked her shoulder until she was awake, which didn't take long. She was a light sleeper; even the slightest noise coming from the infirmary and she wanted to know about it. "Well?" she asked through half-closed eyelids.

Carson had to smile at her question. Not "What time is it?" or "What's on the schedule for today?" Instead she had questioned the wellness of one of her team members, of one of her close friends. Everything else could come second.

"We finished surgery about half an hour ago. One of the major's broken ribs perforated his left lung, resulting in a moderate case of hemopneumothorax." He received puzzled looks from the four teammates who were now on the edges of their seats. "When the rib punctures the lung," he explained, "blood from the lung begins to flow into the pleura, or the membrane that envelopes it. As a result, air from the lung escapes through the puncture into the pleural cavity, causing the lung to collapse. Luckily, we caught it in time and were able to perform a successful operation."

This earned a round of sighs from the group and smiles were exchanged.

"The internal bleeding was stopped, the blood from the cavity was removed, and his ribs were reset," the doctor continued proudly. He had a good medical team and they deserved every bit of the credit as much as he did.

"What about now, Doc? Can we see him?" Ford asked.

Carson's eyes fell a little. "I'd have to advise against that, Lieutenant. Though the surgery was a success, but he is still in critical condition. We're still working on getting him stabilized, so until we do so, I want to keep visitors to a minimum - just until we straighten things out a bit." He made it sound like he just had to tidy up a few things here and there, while in reality there was still a long road ahead of them all.

"What else is wrong with him, besides the… hemopn…." Teyla's voice trailed off as she struggled with the difficult medical term.

"Hemopneumothorax," Beckett finished for her. He sighed. "Well, there are a number of things. He has a semi-collapsed trachea, for one, but I wouldn't worry about that. It's very minor, not that bad at all and will heal in time. We have him on a respirator anyway. There's a nasty infection on his arm, and it was beginning to spread, but we have him on a strong antibiotic. Of course, from the infection he developed a doozy of a fever. 102 degrees to be exact.

"In addition to the cracked ribs, we also found evidence of a bruised diaphragm. It looks like he could have had a severe concussion as well, most likely from a few days ago, but the good news is the worst is past as far as that goes. And as you probably noticed, he's got quite an number of cuts and bruises that had to be cleaned up. Needless to say, he is extremely malnourished and dehydrated, but the IV will be taking care of that."

He was met with silence from the group. It was too much to take in, and despite Carson's attempt at sounding optimistic, they all knew it was a dire situation.

"Sounds serious," Ford muttered.

Beckett wanted to say, "That's an understatement," but his professionalism kept him in check. Instead, he simply nodded; he hadn't even gotten to the bad part yet. "There's more," he said regretfully. Beckett took a deep breath before continuing. "When a Wraith begins to feed on its victim, it releases a chemical into his bloodstream that effectively precipitates the draining of life from that victim. Essentially, it readies each organ in the body for death. When the major was fed upon, albeit only for a short time, that chemical was released and each organ was affected."

Seeing he wasn't getting through to them, Carson explained further. "Think of it this way. When a Wraith feeds, it ages its victim in a short period of time, and each organ grows weaker as a result - just as an elderly fellow will have weaker organs than a younger chap. This feeding puts an incredible amount of stress on the body's systems. And though it appears Major Sheppard hasn't aged, every single organ was subjected to that stress. So what I'm trying to say is that even though he appears the same on the outside…" he said, before thinking of all the physical injuries the man had, "… more or less, internally, his body had taken quite a toll. All ofhis systems were weakened and on the verge of failing."

They all took it in silently.

"But he _will_ make it. Won't he?" Elizabeth asked softly. Her eyes pleaded with him to give her the answer she wanted to hear, needed to hear.

"I wish I could give you a definite answer, Dr. Weir. But there's no telling what might happen over the course of the next few days. The next forty-eight hours are the most critical. If he can make it through those, it will be smooth sailing from there on out. We have him in a medically-induced coma to prevent against any shock, heart attack, or stroke, but…." He stopped as he looked at the expression on her face. It was one of pure fear and dread. Carson realized he was probably saying the wrong thing.

Crouching down in front of her, he spoke softly but firmly. "Elizabeth…. I wouldn't worry. You know more than anyone that he's a fighter. He'll make it." He wished he could believe his own words. The fact was there were too many unknowns, too many what-ifs that clouded the situation. Perhaps if they had gotten to John sooner, he could have done more. Now, they all were forced to play the waiting game.

Rodney caught the doubt that registered in Carson's eyes, but he chose to remain quiet. There was no need for his smart-ass contrariness today. Beckett caught him looking and the two doctors locked eyes for a split second. In that time, a silent understanding passed between the two men. Their secret was safe, though. Neither would tell the others of the true severity of the predicament; that was something they didn't need to hear right now.

Ford let it all sink in. He still couldn't believe it was the major lying there in the infirmary. Sheppard was the strongest of them all and the most valuable; it just wasn't fair. Sure, he had seen his CO in the medical wing plenty of times before; they had both spent their fair share of time there. But this wasn't the same. This time there were no guarantees.

Aiden nodded grimly and swallowed. "Thanks, Doc. And if anything happens-"

"You all will be the first to know, aye. Now I suggest you all get some rest. You've had quite a day."

Reluctantly, they all stood to leave. They began to file out in a straight until Rodney turned to the doctor.

"You know, I'll have my radio on just in case-" McKay began.

"Rodney…"

"Right. Going."

In a few seconds, they all had began walking back to their quarters, save Elizabeth. She had stayed behind, wanting to ask Beckett for a favor.

"Carson…. Would you mind if I saw him? Just for a few moments?"

Sighing, he answered her. "Dr. Weir, I know you're concerned for Major Sheppard. But right now I think the best thing would be to let him rest a while." Seeing her face fall, though, he made her a deal. "I'll tell you what. If you promise to get in a few winks of sleep, you can come back tonight. How's that?"

"Deal," she replied, allowing herself a small smile.

"And don't go you running your mouth off to his teammates, either," he warned, pointing a finger at her. "I can't have everyone bloody running in here at once."

"My lips are sealed. Thanks, Carson." With that, she returned to her quarters, determined to get at least a few hours of shuteye. She suspected why Beckett had let her return and had not let any of the others do so, and she appreciated that. He was a good man, Beckett was, even if he could see right through her. She supposed everyone on the base could by now, but she didn't care.

Elizabeth reached her room and plopped down on her bed. She was tired, as tired as she had ever been despite the catnap she had taken in the waiting room. Even pulling all-nighters during college didn't compare to this. As soon as she hit the mattress, however, she knew sleep wouldn't be coming to her. There was too much on her mind, too much to think about, too many problems and nothing she could do about them.

_How did it get to this? _she wondered. How could so many things have gone wrong in such a short period of time? How could Atlantis's ranking military officer, her close friend, be on the verge of…. No, she didn't want to even think about that. She pondered the last week's events: secret alliances, treachery, deceit. It amazed her how they had been pushed into this mess after what was supposed to be a simple trading mission.

That was another problem. They still needed food, and while she and John had been gone, food hadn't just appeared on the table. Pretty soon they would have to begin visiting random planets and hope the locals would take pity on them. Maybe something could be worked out, some sort of agreement, but she didn't want the Klaan Episode, Part II to happen. They would all have to be more careful from now on about who they were going to trust.

Glancing at her watch, Elizabeth saw that only an hour had passed since she had returned to her room. _Why is it that time always seems to stand still when you're restless? _Hoping that taking a shower would pass the time, she turned on the water as hot as it would go. She leaned heavily on the shower seat, placed her head against the wall, and closed her eyes. This was something she could actually enjoy, somewhere soothing and quiet where she could be alone with her thoughts, with nothing but the water drops rolling off her skin. She wished life were that simple, that all her worries and fears could just roll her off her like water.

After what she deemed the best shower of her life, she got dressed and looked at the clock. Elizabeth had spent an entire hour practically drowning herself, but it was still only 17:00 hours. She sighed, annoyed; this was driving her insane. She wanted to pull her hair out as the frustration of waiting got to her. Then, acrafty idea formed in her mind. Carson said she could return later that night, but what defined 'night'? 7:00? 8:00? Well, in her book, 'night' was going to be 5:00. _And look at the time, _she thought to herself. _It just so happens to be 5:02._ With a smile, she began walking to the infirmary. She knew it was a sneaky tactic, but with any luck Beckett would be on his dinner break and not there to bust her.

Her smile vanished as she approached the infirmary doors. What would she find? Would she be prepared for it? Taking a deep breath, she opened the doors and entered.

At first, she didn't see John, and she started to panic. Had something happened while she was in her room? Did he have to be rushed into emergency surgery? Why hadn't Beckett called her on the radio? Or did he and she just didn't hear it in the shower? Because if something happened while she was gone and Beckett hadn't told her, she swore she was going to-

There, she found him. He was lying in the cot in the far corner of the empty room, away from the commotion of the outside hallway. No wonder she hadn't seen him before; as she slowly approached him, Elizabeth found she could barely recognize him. He looked worse than before, if that was even possible. Maybe it was all the machines that were attached to him. Elizabeth recognized a respirator, an EKG, a pulse, blood pressure, and respiration monitor, an IV, plus a few more pieces of equipment she could not identify.

Elizabeth wanted them off. She wanted nothing more that for these machines to disappear and for things to be back to normal, but knew that they were the only things keeping him alive. He looked so frail with the equipment surrounding him. _Christ, John can't even _breathe_ on his own._

In addition to the cuts and bruises she had seen earlier, some had formed around his neck where Tiny had nearly strangled him and on his wrists were the restraints had been. Bags hung under his closed eyes and numerous bandages clung to his skin. A patch of purple peeked out from under the dressing that covered his ribcage, and a tinge of yellow could be seen on bandage on his bicep. A nasty shiner still covered his left eye.

Sinking slowly into the chair that was next to his cot, Elizabeth studied him. She just watched, making sure the machines were doing their oh-so-crucial jobs. She wasn't a doctor of medicine, and didn't know what all the pieces of equipment meant, but somehow there was comfort in seeing them actually work, seeing them keep John alive.

Silently she sat, trying to keep the tears at bay. The sounds of the respirator pump and the beep of the heart monitor only served to remind her just how close they had all come to losing him. And the worst part was, they _still _might lose him, despite the doctors' best efforts. What would happen then? To have come so far, to get him back, only to lose him for good? What would she do then?

Soft approaching footsteps on the floor shook her from her trance. Blinking the moisture in her eyes away several times, she turned to find thedisapproving gaze of Dr. Carson Beckett upon her.

"It's nighttime already, then, is it?" he asked with a hint of acynicism to his voice. He looked at his wrist, an extraneous and patronizing gesture, and said, "According to my watch, it's only 5:30. Hmm, must be slow." He arched his eyebrows in expectation of her answer.

She had been caught, there was no denying that. "Daylight Saving Time?" she tried. Both knew that DST hardly applied in a whole different galaxy, but it was the best she could come up with at the moment.

Carson frowned, clearly not amused.

"Look, I'm sorry, Carson. It's just that I was going insane with worry, and I needed to see him. I promise not to touch anything." She wasn't about to leave, as her tone clearly indicated, no matter what Beckett said.

He sighed. How could he say no? After all, he was the one who practically told her to go back and get the major. "Bloody hell," he murmured under his breath. Looking around to make sure no one else overheard, he leaned in and whispered, "All right, then. But if anyone sees you, you didn't get permission from me." He winked and started to walk away, sensing she wanted some time alone with his patient. "Oh, and you might want to try talking to him, lass."

Elizabeth wrinkled her brow in confusion. "Will he be able to hear me?"

"There's no telling for sure, but it couldn't hurt. Especially not from you."

She wondered if that last part was thrown in just to tease her. Beckett was always so upbeat during dire times, even when a patient was near death. She had been, too, always remaining positive and having faith in medicine. But now, it seemed impossible to stay so optimistic, not with the odds stacked so high against John. Maybe because she had always remained distant before, but since she was so attached in this particular case, since this time it was so personal….

Looking at the comatose body in front of her, she wondered what to say. She had always felt comfortable talking to him, but now the words just wouldn't come. Elizabeth closed her eyes and thought about everything the had been through since arriving in Atlantis. The man certainly had a knack for getting into trouble, that was for sure. He always ended up with more than he bargained for, but his heart was always in the right place. It brought a smile to her face. He was lucky, and she hoped his luck continued to hold strong, just a little longer.

"I worry about you, you know that?" she began without thinking. Elizabeth let the words flow, from wherever her thoughts decided to take her. In a way, she was glad he was unconscious while she spoke. She felt vulnerable. Never before had she been so frank and so open with her feelings with him, and she was afraid what his response might have been. What if he didn't feel the same way? In any case, she needed to get them off her chest.

"Well, I do," she continued. "Every time you step through that goddamn Gate, I worry. Sure, when other teams are off world, I get a little concerned… but with you, it's different. When you're gone, I'm a mess," she managed with a chuckle. "I mean, you should have seen me a few days ago." Elizabeth smirked, slightly embarrassed at the wreck she was when she had returned from the planet Klaan without him. She could only imagine how she had looked then.

Her face fell and her tone grew more serious. "But every time you're gone, it's like I have an anxiety attack. I lose sleep, I'm _always_ in the control room monitoring your progress…. Ask Grodin. He's probably sick of seeing me by now. I actually find excuses to stay in my office so that I can keep an eye on the Gate, just so I can watch for you to come back. And when you see me, there to greet you by the railing after every mission, I may _look_ composed, but I can't begin to tell you how relieved I am each time I see you walk through that puddle.

"And then, of course, there are those times when you don't come back alright - which is getting to be a bad habit of yours, I might add," she said with feigned criticism. "God, it scares me. I can honestly say that it scares me. I keep thinking of what went wrong, what we could have done to prevent it from happening…. And then you get well. You get well like you always do, I put you back on active duty, and the cycle starts all over again."

She paused, not sure of where to go from here. What was she trying to say? Why had she just said all those things? Was it because she was afraid he was going to die, and that she wouldn't get another chance to tell him how she felt? Or was it because she knew he would recover, and this was the only time she could actually show her true feelings, when he was unconscious? Either way, she knew she was a coward. For whatever reason, she felt she couldn't have done this earlier, and she regretted that now more than ever.

"So…. Just get well, so things can be normal again, and so I can go back to worrying." She smiled sadly and sat back in her chair.

Beckett watched on sympathetically from his office as she began her vigil.

TBC

* * *

Yup, Beckett's a softy. I know not much went on in this chapter, just hang on for a little bit. Stay tuned for more updates soon!


	23. Bittersweet Awakenings

**Strange Bedfellows**

**A/N: **What's this? An update 24 hours after the last one? What has gotten into me:)

Thanks once again for the reviews! Highonscifi, you didn't have to write that much, lol. I appreciate it!

**Chapter 23: Bittersweet Awakenings**

_Four Days Later_

It had been five long days since they had returned from Klaan, and five long days since any of them had heard John speak, seen him move, or even blink. While Carson had administered a mild stimulant to bring him out of his medically-induced coma when he had deemed it appropriate, John had not responded to the medication. He was still unconscious and unresponsive. And by giving his patient any more of the drug, Carson would increase the risk of putting even more stress on his circulatory system.

But while he remained outwardly inert, John's body had begun to heal itself. With the aid of Beckett's cocktail of medications, some of his cuts and bruises had healed, his fever was coming down, the infectionfrom the cut on his arm seemed to be vanishing, the bags under his eyes had cleared, and the purple bruises by his ribs had started to disappear.

The respirator had been replaced by an oxygen mask as soon as Carson had concluded his patient could breathe on his own. Some of the other equipment had been cleared out as well, but the IV and heart monitor remained. All in all, the major was healing nicely. All that remained was bringing him back to reality, and unfortunately, there was nothing that could be done about that. It was entirely up the major himself; whenever his body decided to wake up was when he woke up.

What disturbed Elizabeth the most was that Dr. Beckett had no explanation for John's comatose state. He should have woken by now.

Each day, his teammates had visited for a few hours, taking the time to talk to their CO about what had happened on the base that day. Rodney had gone into a particularly lengthy speech about the finer points of wormhole travel, something he should have known John could have cared less about, until he was practically hauled out of the infirmary by Ford. "We want to wake him up, McKay, not put him to sleep again," Ford had commented about the scientist's boring lecture. "Try picking a more interesting topic next time."

It had been like that each day, small banter between the team to help relieve some of the inner stress they were all feeling. They found it helped to keep their minds off the current state of affairs. If they didn't amuse themselves with inane topics, they all would be biting each other's heads off and at one another's throats.

A lot of people came to visit Sheppard, some he knew well and some he had only had a few conversations with. But there was one person who had never left his side.

Elizabeth sat in the same chair day after day, the occasional trip to her quarters or the mess hall her only reprieve. She would continue to talk to him, mostly about mundane topics, but what she really found comfort in was just sitting silently. Somehow, in his presence she felt safer, just knowing he was there.

Finally, when she could keep her eyes open no longer, Elizabeth fell asleep. She had been in the middle of reading _War and Peace, _telling herself is was just for kicks. But her subconscious knew it was another connection she could establish with John, something to remind her of him. When her exhaustion finally caught up with her, the book slipped from her hands. She slipped into a deep slumber.

* * *

The first thing to return was his hearing. As the ringing in his ears subsided, John heard a steady _beep… beep_… off to his right. It sounded familiar somehow, and although he didn't know the source, he knew he didn't like the sound. 

Slowly, he opened his eyes and found himself looking at the ceiling of the infirmary. There was no mistaking it, and Lord knows he had been in this wing of Atlantis enough times to recognize it when he saw it. Hell, he practically _owned _the infirmary. It was his second home.

He squinted against the sudden brightness of the light. Moving his eyes around, he was able to catch a glimpse of several machines hooked up to his body, including the heart monitor which was the criminal guilty of the annoying, incessant beeping. _Damn it. Not again, _were his first thoughts as he regained consciousness. It was the only thing he could think of at the moment.

John tried to move his head around but his stiff, sore neck cried out in protest. Throwing that idea out the window, he tried to push himself up with his arms, but found himself too weak to do so. He was only able to make it an inch or so above the bed before he collapsed back down in exhaustion. As he lied there panting, an idea formed in his head. Waiting a few moments to gather his strength, Sheppard reached around the side of the cot and found what he was looking for. Pressing down on the button, the upper-half of his bed began to rise, and soon he was in a semi-sitting position.

The little trip had not been painless, however. As his torso bent forward, his ribs tightened with the movement. Immediately, he stopped and surveyed the damage. John fingered the bandages curiously, as if trying to remember what could have caused such an injury. He noticed there was a similar bruise on his other side, as well as numerous other aches, pains, and wounds.

_What the hell happened to me?_

A soft sound drew his attention to the left. There, in a chair next to his bed, was Elizabeth, who had just murmured something in her sleep. She rolled to find a more comfortable position and returned to her dream.

John watched her, confused. Something stirred in the back of his mind, something telling him that he wasn't supposed to be here, that he never expected to see her ever again. It was just a feeling, a fog floating on the edge of his consciousness, but it made him wonder.

He wanted to wake her up and ask her what exactly was going on, but stopped himself. She looked so peaceful, so content in her sleep that he couldn't possibly disturb such a beautiful thing. Plus, she looked exhausted. John guessed this was the only rest she had gotten in a long while, and again he wondered why. But no, answers could wait for now.

As he studied her, he noticed a hint of a bruise on her right cheekbone. Like a flood, the memories came rushing back: the Klaan, Hergon, their capture, the Wraith, an alliance, Kropol and Elizabeth, her returning home, Tiny feeding on him…. It still didn't answer the question about how he got back here. That could wait, though. All that he cared about now was here, sleeping right in front of him.

The Major sat in silence, just watching over her for a while before company came in. Ford, Teyla, and Rodney entered the infirmary in what looked like the middle of an argument.

"I'm telling you, McKay, Aquaman was the coolest," Ford insisted.

"Please, Ford. 'Oh, look at me, I'm Aquaman,'" McKay countered, doing his impression of the comic book character in a falsetto voice and waving his hands childishly in the air. "'All I can do is swim really fast and talk to the fishies.' Whoop-dee-friggin'-do. Now _Wonderwoman_…. Wonderwoman was the ultimate superhero."

"McKay. We all know the only reason you like Wonderwoman is because she wore a skimpy little outfit and had big-"

"Major!" Teyla interrupted.

The bickering boys immediately turned their heads and spotted the now conscious Major. All three rushed over to his side.

"You're awake, sir!" Ford exclaimed, ecstatic.

"Yes, I am," Sheppard replied groggily. He sounded like a frog when he spoke. "And it seems like you three have gotten along well enough without me," he said, referring to their most recent argument. "Remember to play nice, kids."

"Yes, sir," the lieutenant replied with a smile. It was a relief to see his CO alive and well again, with some of his humor restored as well.

"It is good to see you awake again, Major," Teyla offered. She cast a sideways glance at her two teammates. "As you can see, things have been somewhat… disorderly of late." Both she and her fellow Athosians had prayed to the Ancestors each day for his speedy recovery. Even Halling had commented to her if there was ever a man deserving of their aid, it was Major Sheppard. She had to agree; without him, her people would surely be lost. They owed everything to him.

"Oh, I don't know. It looks pretty normal to me," he croaked, but managed a smile. "I'm guessing you were the rescue party that came in and got me."

He received nods and returned smiles from all three. John noticed a bandage wrapped around Rodney's head, and thinking he was injured during the extraction, offered an apology. "McKay, I'm so sorry…. I didn't mean for it…. What happened? Did you get hit by a Stunner?"

McKay looked around the room uneasily. After hitting his head on the lamp several days ago, he had been just too busy to get the 'wound' tended to. Carson himself had been otherwise occupied himself, and when he did get the time to check Rodney's supposed 'life-threatening' injury, he had dismissed thehypochondriac scientist without so much as an exam. So Rodney had been forced to dress the injury himself. Hence the rather sloppy bandaging job. It looked more like a Arabic turban than a bandage.

McKay cleared his throat. "Yes, actually…. One of them came right out in front-"

"What Doctor McKay was about to say," Teyla interrupted, "was that he accidentally hit his head on a lamp and that you should not feel guilty."

"Yes, that's exactly it," Rodneyconceded indefeat.

"You should also know, sir, that he saved my ass back there," Ford added. He wanted McKay to get all the credit he deserved.

Rodney looked slightly embarrassed and remained quiet for once in his life.

By now, Carson had heard the commotion and had made his way over to John's bedside. "Major, welcome back," he greeted with a smile. "You were out for quite a while. How are you feeling, son?"

_Where do I start? _he thought. "I'm sore pretty much everywhere I can think of. I'm a little woozy, tired as all hell, and _thirsty_. And it hurts when I breathe deeply; my chest gets a little sore."

Carson was surprised at his honesty. Never before had the major been so forthcoming about his well-being. Beckett suspected there was more, but settled for what Sheppard had given him. "I'll get you a glass of water." He turned to fill up a cup from the sink.

"Everyone made it out okay, right?" John asked.

"Yes, sir. Two of our people were hit with Stunners, but they were fine a few hours later." Ford noticed his CO visibly sigh with relief. "What was it like in there, sir? In the outpost?" he asked cautiously.

John thought for a moment. It was the most terrifying thing he had ever experienced; waking up one morning and not knowing if today was the day he was going to die, not knowing what they were going to do to him or to Elizabeth, not knowing if he was ever going to see his friends or his home again. He had been petrified the entire time he was there, but of course he couldn't tell his 2IC that.

"Um…. I was bored," John replied and shrugged.

Ford caught him in the lie but didn't call him on it. "Yes, sir. Thought so, sir."

Beckett returned with the glass of water, which John downed in several gulps. It was the best water he had ever tasted.

Another sound to their left drew their attention away. Elizabeth was stirring once more; somehow she had managed to remain asleep despite the raucous and was only awakening now. John figured she was more tired than he had suspected.

She opened her eyes and immediately checked on John. She was quite surprised to find him awake and upright.

"Hey there," he said with a sleepy grin.

"Hi," she breathed back, not entirely sure if what she was seeing was real. She prayed it was.

Teyla smiled at the scene. She couldn't imagine any two people more happy to see one another. Along with Ford, she turned to leave the room, knowing that they would want to be alone for a while. The Athosian and Aiden had to drag the ever oblivious Rodney along with them, who kept mumbling about why he had to leave when he had only just arrived.

They sat there, just staring at one another, afraid to blink for fear that the other would vanish. Then slowly, Elizabeth rose and sat next to John on his cot. She reached out a finger and poked him in in the arm.

John was confused to say the least, but let her go through with the gesture anyway. "What was that for?" he asked curiously when she was finished.

Her face flushed slightly. "I just wanted to make sure… you know… that it's really you. That you're really here." It was all she could to do to refrain from pulling him into her arms and crying her eyes out, but she knew it wasn't the professional thing to do. They were back in Atlantis now; they had to go back to being colleagues once again, nothing more.

At the moment, Beckett walked out of his office with a set of tools, intent on checking John's vitals. When he saw the scene in front of him, however, he turned right around and headed back into his office, pretending he had forgotten a piece of equipment. Vitals could wait; what was happening now was more important than any read-out from a set of instruments could be.

The two talked for hours about what had had happened on both Klaan and Atlantis while the other was away. Of course, each one's description was as abstract and flat as possible, devoid of their personal feelings during that period of time. For some reason, they were both afraid to go down that road, afraid it would spoil what they already had.

Elizabeth explained how they had to restart John's heart on several occasions. _So that was what I felt, _he thought as he remembered the familiar, searing pain, accompanied by a bright white light. And although he couldn't place it at the time, he realized now it had been the same sensation as when they had to use the defibrillators on him during the Wraith-tic incident.

She also told him how Lieutenant Ford admirably took charge during her absence, how he led the rescue mission, and how he did a damn fine job of it as well. John wasn't surprised; he could see all along that Aiden would make a fine officer. He had never doubted the young man's courage or leadership skills, and was extremely proud of his 2IC. Of course, it also gave John more ammunition to work with when he teased the lieutenant….

Elizabeth struggled when she came to the part about shooting Tiny. Try as she might, she wasn't able to keep the fright out of her voice, the same fright she had felt when she had approached the cell and saw the scene that laid within. John noticed it, too. It _was _her whom he had seen just before he had lost consciousness. He couldn't blame her for being horrified; it was probably more terrifying to watch than to actually go through.

"Nice shootin', Tex," he commended.

It did the trick. Elizabeth tried to keep a straight face at first, but she gave in and burst out laughing at his poor imitation of a southern accent. John thought it was the greatest thing he had ever seen, to see her so happy after such a harrowing ordeal.

Convinced he was set on the path to recovery, Elizabeth stood to leave. She lingered a bit, as if there was something she wanted to say, something important, but something she just couldn't find the words for.

John watched her as her inner struggle played out on her face. He knew what she was thinking and knew what she was about to say. He also sensed it was difficult for her and awkward for the both of them. If it was this awkward _now_, just trying to _talk _about what could happen between them…. "So, I guess I'll see you around then," he said before any words could come from her mouth.

Elizabeth looked at him and a silent understanding passed between the two. She cursed how he could always tell what she was thinking. But it just couldn't happen - not here, not now. There were too many things that could go wrong and too many things that would be put at risk: her authority, his authority, the respect of the expedition, their current relationship…. Still, it was enough to have him here, home. Elizabeth would rather be close to John and not be able to touch him than farther away and _still_ not be able to touch him.

She gave him a sad half-smile and put on a brave face. "Sure." As she neared the exit, she turned back to him. "If there's anything you need…."

"A shower." He had been dying for one for days.

"I know, I can tell," she replied lightheartedly with a wicked grin on her face. It seemed to lighten the mood in the room.

He looked up at her in shock. Had Elizabeth Weir just told him he smelled? "Ouch," he responded, feigning hurt and clutching his heart. "You're vicious."

"I'm a politician, remember?" Satisfied she had gotten the last word, she triumphantly walked out the door and back to her office. There were a million things to straighten out and a billion things to do. And number one on her list was not thinking about what could have been - what _should _have been - before her heart broke.

John watched her leave and expelled a lungful of air after she left the room. He shut his eyes tightly and rubbed his temples. Sheppard didn't want it to end this way, he really didn't, but there was no choice. If he didn't want her to be hurt, their relationship would remain purely professional. At least he could watch over her from a distance now that he was home. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that they had both made the wrong choice.

John Sheppard never doubted his decisions, until today.

TBC

* * *

Aww, don't worry, there are happier times ahead for Atlantis. So those of you who were waiting to see what they said to each other, there you have it. Was it what you expected? Of course I couldn't have them run into each other's arms or something, that would be no fun! 


	24. Hair Pins and Squirt Guns

**Strange Bedfellows**

**A/N**: Okay all you shippy fangirls you, just hold your horses one darn second! There's still and entire chapter left after this one. Anything could happen. :) Alexiamanda: don't stay up too late, lol. Jamieson Z: you're too nice! All of you, too nice!

**Chapter 24: Hair Pins and Squirt Guns**

_Nine Days Later_

After straightening his tie on his dress blue uniform, John attempted to straighten out his perpetually tousled hair. He ran a comb through it, and after two minutes of styling he got it to look just the way he wanted: exactly as it had looked two minutes ago. Pleased with the results, though, the pilot put the finishing touches on his jacket: a silver pair of wings, his Air Force ribbons, and his golden oak leaves.

The door to his room opened quietly and he made his way down the hallway to Elizabeth's quarters. While he had been recovering in the infirmary, she had been hurriedly working out a deal with the remaining Klaans - the honest, well-meant ones John and his team had thought they had met the first time around. They truly were the simple people Elizabeth had come to respect, and she had felt she owed them an explanation of the truth.

With the help of Ford and the rest of the team, she had explained to them what their former leader Hergon had been up to behind their backs. Naturally, they were shocked at the revelation - and some even rebuffed it - but some gentle persuasion encouraged them to visit the ruins just outside their village. Once they were convinced the ruins were not in fact cursed, the locals were able to learn of the treachery their past commander had taken part in.

And of course, now that the Alliance had been broken, the Klaans were afraid the Wraith would return to their village to cull their people - and their fear was justified. But the Atlanteans, with superior firepower and technology, agreed to protect the town as best they could from their common enemy. A new alliance had been formed.

And so, after several more tedious days of negotiations with the new Klaan leader Turin, Elizabeth was able to finally strike a deal for food. Of course, she had done so from the safety of Atlantis via a radio and the Stargate - at John's insistence. If he had it his way, she would never set foot off the base again.

Tonight was the night of the grand ceremonial feast. _Hopefully this one will go better than the last one did, _John thought as he continued to walk the corridors of the city. Atlantis had insisted on hosting this time, disguising their concern for security with politeness and courtesy. The Klaans had thought nothing of it and gladly accepted. But they would be providing the food for tonight's festivities, given the Earthling's lack thereof.

As he closed in on her quarters, John began to have doubts about what he was going to do. Was it the right thing? The proper thing? In any case, he was growing more nervous with each step. _Stop it, you're acting like a high schooler._

He rapped his knuckles against her door. "Just a second," was the muffled reply, and John heard things being moved around and drawers being shut. There would be a few more seconds before she answered the door, a few more seconds for him to escape. He eyed the surrounding hallway. No one was around and there was a room to the left he could duck into. Perfect. He was still a little stiff, but if he could just-

The door opened and caught John by surprise. What really caught his attention, though, was the figure standing in it. Elizabeth wore a simple yet elegant crimson dress which hugged her figure nicely. Dainty earrings, which she was just finishing putting on, along with a solitary diamond necklace accented her outfit.

"John," she stated, obviously surprised.

He started to breathe again. "Wow," was all he could say after he closed his jaw. He mentally kicked himself for the comment.

Instantly her expression relaxed into a smile. "Spoken like a true flyboy," she chided. Elizabeth motioned for him to come in. "You're looking pretty spiffy yourself, Major," she teased. She couldn't say what she really was thinking at that moment or she knew he would never let her live it down.

"Ah, must be the uniform."

There was an awkward silence between them and John found himself glancing around the room uncomfortably. Truth be told, they hadn't seen much of each other over the past week, almost as if each was avoiding the other. In their determination to maintain a purely professional relationship, they became _too _careful of one another, almost overdoing it in some cases. They wouldn't joke in public as they had before, he never questioned her orders, and she found herself more often than not addressing him by his rank instead of his first name. Elizabeth cursed herself. In many ways, it was worse than before the Klaan incident. Not only had they gone back to being just friends - just boss and chief of military personnel - they had also lost whatever spark there had been between them. She didn't want that.

"Oh, here's your jacket back." Elizabeth had forgotten to give it to him earlier. Maybe part of her subconscious had wanted to hold on to it.

"Right. Thanks," he said, taking the jacket from her. John noticed she hadn't washed it; it was still slightly dirty and dusty from their flee from the Darts.

They went back to standing in silence.

As she searched for something to say to break the tension, a thought popped into her mind. "So what are you doing here, anyway? Aren't you supposed to be recovering in your quarters?" Elizabeth wasn't trying to get rid of him; she was genuinely concerned for his well-being. Although Beckett had released him from the infirmary yesterday, the doctor had confined him to his room until he had gotten stronger.

John balked. "I, uh.… Well, as you know - I mean, of course you _know_, you're the leader of Atlantis and you did all the trade negotiations…."

Elizabeth smiled at his uneasiness. She found it charming and a little refreshing. Here was a man who would fly behind enemy lines, willingly go into a Wraith Hive Ship, and take on a platoon of Wraith if need be, yet he was afraid to talk to the girl. _Beautiful, _she thought. Amused, she didn't put him out of his misery just yet but let him continue.

"Anyway, since the big party's tonight, I was, uh…. I was just… well, you know… wondering…." He looked down at his shoes as he twisted his foot absent-mindedly. It reminded Elizabeth of a schoolboy. "Since this is obviously important to you… would you like - I mean, would you mind… would you like to go with me tonight?" The last part came out in one big rush.

There. He had said it. Immediately after the words escaped his mouth, John cringed. _Dammit, I am such an ass. I sounded like Rain Man._

Elizabeth stepped toward him and suppressed the urge to laugh. "Like a date?" she taunted.

John recognized she was purposely persecuting him. He was surprised he hadn't begun to sweat bullets already. Gulping, he replied. "Yes. No. I mean-"

"I'd love to." She decided to spare him the humiliation of verbally arguing with himself. Before she had realized she had broken her personal policy, to remain professional at all times, Elizabeth had agreed. And what she found… _curious, _was how easily she had allowed herself to do it. _It's just a harmless dinner party, _was the excuse she used. It was a lame one, she knew, but at the moment she didn't particularly care.

John sighed with relief. Loudly.

"John Sheppard," she playfully pestered him. "If I didn't know better, I'd think that you were actually _nervous _about asking me."

Would his torment ever stop? "You just couldn't resist, could you? All right, you've had your fun."

"I know, I'm sorry," she offered.

"No, you're not," John suspected.

"You're right, I'm not." She broke into a broad grin. Stepping even closer to him, she straightened his ribbons and let her hand rest on his chest. Elizabeth couldn't help but notice how handsome he looked tonight.

John didn't pull away. Nor did he pull away when she reached up and touched his left cheek.

"You still have a hint of a black eye."

"I know. I'm going to ruin all the photos," he playfully pouted.

"Not once I'm done with you, you're not." Elizabeth pulled him into the bathroom and stood him in front of the mirror.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Just hold still," she answered as she concentrated. Selecting the right shade, she began to apply makeup under John's left eye.

"Oh, God…" he murmured. This was torture. He was actually wearing _makeup._ "Don't say a word to Ford. He'll lose all respect for me and start with the blackmail. McKay either. Or Teyla. Or Beckett." He paused. "Come to think of it, don't say anything to anyone."

"You're secret's safe with me." She could only imagine how hard it was for a stick jockey like him to endure something so feminine. _If only your fellow pilots could see you now. _After adding the last touches, she finished. "There. All done, pretty boy."

Elizabeth turned him toward the mirror and they both admired her handiwork. There were no traces whatsoever of the black eye.

"Wow," he said, surprised. John inspected her work; it was flawless. "Thanks."

"Sure. You know, I've got some extra dresses and hair clips if you'd like…."

John matched her grin. "You don't stop, do you?" He didn't mind. This was the first time they had actually felt comfortable in each other's presence since returning, and it took turning him halfway into a woman to do so.

"Actually, there was something I wanted to run by you," John continued.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, and I might need those hair clips after all."

* * *

The night had been mostly uneventful thus far. The dinner, while… _interesting_, had been rigid and formal. And although the Klaans were valuable partners and honorable people, the Atlanteans agreed they were as dry as a saltine cracker. John didn't think he had met as boring a group of people in his life. They hadn't even cracked a smile once when he had thrown out one of his jokes in a failed attempt to keep the event upbeat. _They hadn't even liked the one about the Wraith priest, rabbi, and minister who walked into a bar, _he thought sadly._ Even McKay likes that one_. 

Most of the conversation had been filled with apologies from the Klaan leader Turin. He had sincerely asked for forgiveness from John and Elizabeth on several occasions. They had both told him to forget about the entire episode, that it wasn't the man's fault, but he persisted. John didn't know if he could take anymore apologies tonight.

After the feast - hardly any of the Atlanteans had touched the peculiar food - the two factions moved from the briefing room/temporary dining hall to the Gate room and the surrounding balconies. It was a large gathering, a few hundred people in all from both cultures. John was pleased to see his people mingling freely with the Klaans.

He spotted Elizabeth in the far corner, making small talk with Turin. She looked bored to tears, but nodded politely and smiled anyway. John figured yearsof being a politician must have given her practice at pretending she was interested when she in fact was not. He counted the times that skill could have came in handy for him, and all of McKay's briefings came to mind.

Elizabeth made eye contact with him and sent him an S.O.S.. The discrete look she shot him screamed, "Help me!"

Immediately, he made his way over to the pair. As he passed Beckett, he noticed the displeased look the doctor shot him, probably for breaking his curfew, and decided it best to keep on walking. "Excuse me," he interjected as he reached Turin. "May I borrow Dr. Weir for a sec? She's needed in the control room."

"Of course," Turin replied warmly.

John offered her his arm and the two escaped.

When they had rounded the corner, Elizabeth leaned against the wall. "Thanks for the rescue. You have no idea how boring that guy is." She rolled her eyes.

"Elizabeth Weir," he began in a mock-scolding tone. Now it was his turn to tease. "You're a diplomat. You aren't supposed to say things like that."

She thought for a moment. "You're right. Do you still have your Beretta on you?"

"Yeah…." He always kept it on him.

"Next time? Shoot me."

John couldn't help but crack a smile at that one. Here was a side of her she didn't show often. "Hey, do you still have those hair pins with you?"

Elizabeth nodded and handed him a black case from her handbag.

"Then let's get to it," he said eagerly.

They walked out onto the floor of the Gate room and Sheppard took his place at the top of the stairs. "Everyone, listen up!" he yelled, but the noise from the surrounding conversations was too loud.

Seemingly from out of nowhere, Bates stepped up and let rip with a loud whistle. The sergeant had been avoiding his CO ever since he had returned, as had been Kavanagh. McKay had told John how both Bates and Kavanagh had been opposed to sending in a rescue party for either Elizabeth or him. It had angered him to no end. Bates, as a Marine should have know better than to leave anyone behind. He was going to deal with that son of a bitch soon enough, but right now he was in a good mood. He didn't want to let the sergeant spoil an otherwise pleasant evening.

Bates's whistle did the trick. The crowded Gate room turned to look at John.

"First off," he announced, "I want to thank everyone for being here tonight. I know recent events have cast a shadow over the issue of trust, but I'm confident that our new allies will prove to be valuable friends whom we can look forward to trading with."

He was met with polite applause. It was total BS and he knew it, but he needed to say something before continuing. John thought he was starting to sound more and more like those old fogey generals he had always made it a point of despising. _God help me._ Not one for long, drawn out speeches, he moved on.

"I also want to take this opportunity to do something… well, something I should have done a long time ago. So with Dr. Weir's and Turin's permission…?"

The two leaders nodded.

"Lieutenant Ford, front and center," John barked.

Ford nearly choked on the Athosian brew he had been drinking. _Oh, crap. _He wondered if his superior had found out that he had replaced one of his 9 mils with a squirt gun. It was just a joke. But he had only done so a few hours ago; how did he find out already? Ford bet McKay had told him, and Sheppard was going to bust him in front of all these people. "Oh, man…" he groaned to himself.

Dutifully, the lieutenant approached his CO at the top of the stairs. He could feel hundreds of eyes boring into the back of his neck. "Sir," he said stiffly as he reported to his commander.

John's wooden expression hadn't relaxed yet. He wanted to mess with the lieutenant a bit first. Pulling out the black case Elizabeth had given to him earlier from behind his back, he opened it and showed the contents to Ford. Inside were four one inch-long silver hair clips, grouped in two groups of two, and each sitting parallel to each other.

"I… I don't understand, sir," Aiden said. Did the major want him to put these in his hair or something?

Finally, John broke into a grin. "Captain's bars, Ford. We'll get you your official ones when we get back to Earth, but for now, these will have to do."

Aiden beamed at the 'insignias.' They may have been women's hair accessories, but he didn't care. He would wear them proudly. Ford wondered if his CO had intentionally picked a feminine adornment just to see if he would in fact wear them. "Thanks you, sir," he said genuinely. He cast a glance at Dr. Weir to see if she knew about this. The proud expression on her face indicated she did.

"You're quite welcome. Now," John announced as he opened the United States Marine Corps handbook and read from it. "'The President of the United States' - well, he isn't exactly here, is he?" This earned a chuckle from the crowd. They knew John was deviating from the guidelines once again and knew this promotion wasn't official. But John didn't really give a damn. When they got back to Earth, he'd _make_ it official. It was the least he could do for his 2IC. Aiden was probably one of the youngest Captains in the Corps now, and the higher-ups wouldn't likethat little variation from the norm, but they could shove for all John cared. This young man had courage that belied his age… although he was still a kid at heart.

"So," the major continued, "'_I _have placed special trust and confidence in the patriotism, valor, fidelity, and abilities of Lieutenant Aiden Ford . In view of these qualities and his demonstrated potential for increased responsibiliy, Lt. Aiden Ford is therefore promoted to the grade of Captain, United States Marine Corps, this 28th of April, 2005.'"

A round of applause erupted from the room and the cluster of Marines on the upper balconies began to cheer wildly. Aiden looked like he was about to die of embarrassment. He mouthed, "Did you know about this?" to his two teammates, to which Teyla and Rodney both nodded. Elizabeth had told them several hours ago. _Why didn't anyone tell me?_

After the applause had died down, John proudly clipped the silver clasps onto Aiden's uniform. "Raise your right hand, Captain, and repeat after me." He began the traditional oath of enlistment all military personnel are required to recite upon promotion, with some minor modifications. "'I, insert name, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States - and Atlantis - against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter. So help me God. And the Ancestors, too.'"

Ford repeated the pledge, meaning every word of it. He knew he would have to do it all again back on Earth to make it official, but somehow this was better. The informal atmosphere, here with his closest friends, was infinitely better than some stuffy reception with some old desk jockeys.

Captain Ford finished and saluted the major, a gesture which he returned. A second round of applause, this one more deafening than the last, erupted.

"Congratulations, Captain. Long overdue."

"Thank you, sir," was all Ford could manage.

"Oh, and one more thing," John said before his 2IC could walk away. "I heard it through the grapevine that you shot Hergon."

Aiden tried to judge his superior's expression, but found it once again to be unreadable as ever. When he had pulled the trigger, he had figured the major would want Hergon alive to question, and perhaps to exact a little revenge. Ford thought he had made a mistake by killing him then and there.

"Yes, sir…" he answered cautiously.

"You… are one lucky son of a bitch," Major Sheppard said with a grin. He loved to yank Aiden's chain; it was just too much fun.

Ford sighed with relief. "Don't I know it, sir." With that, he went to join his fellow Marines on the balcony, who had by now burst into the Marine Corps Hymn. "From the halls of Montezuma, to the shores of Tripoli…."

John rolled his eyes and chuckled. _Jarheads. Wait til Ford sees that I've swapped all his uniforms for ones three sizes too small._

TBC

* * *

Okay folks, one more chapter. And don't worry, it WILL be posted before I leave for Chicago. And no more cliffies, lol. 


	25. Over Dinner

**Strange Bedfellows**

**A/N: **Yes, Shep in dress blues. Yum. Ehem, anyway. This is it, the last one! Tear. Enjoy!

**Chapter 25: Over Dinner**

The rest of the evening was spent congratulating Captain Ford. The Marines swapped embarrassing stories of the captain, with John throwing a few in here and there, of how Aiden had messed up on one mission or another. Laughs were shared all around, and even the Klaans seemed to be enjoying themselves.

Before anyone knew it, it was 23:00 hours. The Klaans had returned to their home planet, but they Atlanteans continued to celebrate not only the new partnership, but the collapse of an malevolent one as well. They celebrated the safe return of their two colleagues, they celebrated the promotion of another, and they celebrated for the sake of celebrating. This was life, and it felt good.

The only ones who didn't attend the remainder of the party were Bates and Kavanagh. They had gotten the distinct feeling they were not wanted, and for once they had been right about something.

Around midnight, the festivities began to die down. Someone had rigged to intercom up to a CD player, which was currently playing Otis Redding's "Dock of the Bay" softly over the speakers. Several civilians danced with each other on the Gate room floor, and some of the braver - or drunker - Marines joined in as well.

Elizabeth had a thought. She looked around the nearly empty room for John, but couldn't find him anywhere. "Have you seen Major Sheppard anywhere?" she asked of Teyla and Rodney, who was currently munching on some sort of meat the Klaans had brought.

"I have not, Dr. Weir," the Athosian replied.

"Maybe you should try the balcony on the northern pier," Rodney added quickly, too quickly, between mouthfuls of food.

Teyla lightly elbowed him in the ribs and forced a smile.

"Ow! Hey, what was that-" McKay stopped himself when he remembered he wasn't supposed to know that tiny bit of information. "But that's just my guess," he told Elizabeth, who eyed him suspiciously.

"Okay…" she responded warily. Something was fishy, but before she could ask anything else, Teyla had pulled Rodney away. And of course Ford was nowhere to be found. She began to think they were all conspiring against her.

Leaving the Gate room behind, Elizabeth slowly made her way to the northern pier. She remembered John had told her this was where he came to think, and now she knew why. This section of the city remained largely unexplored and uninhabited, the only sound was the soft crash of the waves against the mammoth structure. Here someone could be alone with their thoughts, free from the burdens of daily life.

Arriving in front of the door that led out onto the balcony, Elizabeth opened it cautiously. Leaning heavily on the far railing and facing the ocean was John. He was thinking hard about something, she could tell. He looked like the weight of the world was on his shoulders, and given that the Wraith were bound to come to Atlantis sooner or later, she supposed he technically he did.

She stood there in the doorway and watched him silently for several moments, wishing she could read his thoughts as easily as he read hers. Then she politely cleared her throat.

John spun around, surprised. "E-Elizabeth," he stammered.

"What, don't tell me I caught you off guard? You, Mr. Air Force pilot?" she taunted, stepping outside to join him.

"Yeah, actually," he was forced to admit. His jacket was unbuttoned and tie loosened now that all the pomp and circumstance had ended. He had wanted to bring Elizabeth here, _eventually_, but not now. He wasn't ready just yet; he hadn't yet found his nerve. _I bet McKay told her. When I see him next, I swear-_

"So… what brings you out here?" she asked.

His eyes darted nervously to the far end of the balcony then back to her. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it again, not quite sure what to say.

Elizabeth followed his eyes and her own eyes sparkled with delight at the sight. There in the corner was a small, quaint table with a chair at each end. On top, a single candle bathed the surrounding area in a soft, warm glow. She could see that the table had been set already; at each end were two plates, enclosed by silver, domed covers. Above the table, the nighttime sky was a blanket of stars coming down from the heavens and reaching the water below. From their position they could see the entire magnificent city and beyond. It was incredible.

"John," she breathed, still taking in the view, "I don't know what to say…. It's beautiful."

"Yeah," he whispered, staring at her. He agreed with her assessment, just not about the view. John thought it applied more so to the woman standing in front of him.

She turned back to him. "What's this all for?"

Shrugging, he reverted back to that cocky flyboy persona. "Well, since the Klaans' food tasted like rubber, I thought we'd go for something a little more… digestible. And I don't know about you, but I'm starved."

She laughed. He was right; the food at the feast had been awful this time, and she was starving. Elizabeth hadn't even been able to identify half of the items and had tried even less than that. It didn't spell well for their newly-formed trade agreement. She supposed the Atlanteans would have to learn to like the culture's food real fast. Beggars couldn't be choosers after all.

"Plus," he continued in a more sincere yet innocent tone, "I still owe you a dinner, if I remember correctly."

He was right once more. Back in the outpost, he had promised to buy her dinner if she just ate the repugnant broth they had given her. Of course, she had thought he had been joking and realized that this didn't exactly qualify as 'buying' dinner, but she jumped at the chance to take him up on the offer.

Elizabeth allowed him to lead her over to the table and pull out her chair for her. She noticed he still limped slightly and wondered why he had tried to cover it up earlier. Once they had taken their seats, he pulled off the covers of two of the plates.

She burst out laughing. "Turkey sandwiches?" That was John Sheppard for you: ever the clown. _So much for a romantic dinner_, she thought. Still, she was looking forward to the rest of the evening.

"Hey, don't go knocking my favorite food. Besides, it's the best we've got right now _and_ the last of it." With the food shortage problem becoming worse by the day, the base had been restricted to meager rations. But with rank came privileges. John had swiped the last two turkey sandwiches and hoarded them in his quarters. Luckily, with the first food shipment from the Klaans arriving tomorrow morning, the expedition would no longer have to worry.

They both ate the sandwiches hungrily while they made fun of the Klaans' new leader Turin. It was the best food they had had in weeks. There were thankful for that - and thankful for the fact that Turin wasn't there to overhear their conversation.

"And now, for dessert," John announced. "Drum roll, please."

Elizabeth complied, feeling silly as she beat on the table. But she didn't care. This was the most fun she had had in a long while and she couldn't stop smiling. _Stop it, you're blushing like a schoolgirl! _As Major Sheppard removed the two covers on the dessert plates, she cried, "You didn't!"

"What?" he asked harmlessly. John had remembered her strong abhorrence for Powerbars and knew he had gotten her.

She playfully threw her napkin at him and stood. "I've got a better idea. Wait here."

Thinking of what could possibly be better than the last reaction he had just gotten from her, John watched her go. She returned several minutes later with a half full tub of vanilla ice cream in hand.

"Last of it," she proclaimed proudly. It seemed she had been somewhat of a hoarder herself.

As they finished off the last vanilla ice cream in the entire galaxy, Elizabeth recalled the times they had together before, just like this one, eating ice cream in the mess hall. She wondered if they could ever go back to that. Tonight was looking more and more like old times, and maybe more, but was it a step in the right direction or the wrong one?

The pair finished their meal and moved their chairs so they could face the ocean.

"I'm just happy we'll be able to gorge ourselves tomorrow when the food comes in," John remarked.

"Me, too." Then she added, "Sparky."

Sheppard turned his head, horror written on his face. "What? Tell me you just didn't call me that." He hoped to _God _he had heard her wrong.

She nodded, curious to see what his call sign meant.

"How'd you find out?" he asked.

"It was written on the back of a photo I found in your room, the one with you and Doogie. I also found some of the plans you have been working on for Atlantis. You want to tell me why you never showed them to anyone?"

"Snooping, are we?" Then, suddenly, he looked embarrassed. "I don't know. I thought I'd just drop them by McKay's lab one day, let him take the credit for them." He gave her a look. "You know he would." And he'd let him, too. He had no problem with that.

"You should have brought them up. And you never told me why you were called 'Sparky,'" she prompted.

"You're right, I never did."

"John! Come on, please?"

"No way. Nope."

"Major John Sheppard, I am _ordering _you to tell me how you got the call sign 'Sparky.'" She stopped, pleased with herself.

John looked at her in amused disbelief. She stared right back, attempting to keep a straight face but failing miserably. Then came her grin he always got when she was trying to be pissed at him. He loved that. _Did she just pull rank on me?_ He was about to remind her that he hardly ever followed her orders, but decided to comply. Just this once.

"Fine. But not a word to anyone else, got it? Before I know it, Kavanagh and/or Bates will get wind of it and try to have me grounded."

She nodded, eager for him to continue.

John took a deep breath and gave her his best I-hate-you-for-making-me-do-this look. "It was my first assignment out of flight school. I had just gotten my wings, and like all the other rookies, I drew the most mundane of missions. But unlike my squad mates, who had to shuttle supplies back and forth between the Academy and surrounding bases, I had the _privilege_-" he pronounced the word with sarcasm "- of escorting the Chief Master Sergeant of the Air Force from Denver to the Academy so he could deliver a speech."

Elizabeth winced. She knew this was going to be bad. The Chief Master Sergeant of the Air Force was the highest ranked of all enlisted men, sort of a spokesperson for all enlisted personnel. This was going to be bad indeed.

"Anyway," he went on, chuckling slightly. Sure, he could laugh about it _now_. "I picked up the Sarge at the airport in my Blackhawk, we lifted off, and headed for Colorado Springs. Everything was going fine - right up until I had to land it. A nasty crosswind came out of nowhere just as I was setting it down and picked up the foreword part of my bird. The only problem was, the tail didn't follow. So there I was, panicking in the front of a Blackhawk with the goddamn Chief Master Sergeant nearly having a heart attack in the back while my chopper taxied down the taxiway, nose in the air, ass dragging. The rear rotor scraped on the tarmac the entire way back to the hangar, causing sparks to fly everywhere. One of my squad mates apparently thought it was pretty funny, so he gave me the name 'Sparky.' I wasn't able to live it down the entire time I was there; the boys made sure of that."

"What happened to you? With the Chief Master Sergeant, I mean?"

He shrugged. "Nothing. After he took a few puffs from his asthma puffer-" John grinned at that "- he was fine. He let me off the hook; told me he'd had worse things happen to him."

There was silence from Elizabeth as she tried her best not to laugh. John eyed her suspiciously and sighed. "Go ahead, laugh it up," he conceded.

She didn't hesitate to do so. It was hard not to picture the Sarge hanging on for dear life as John careened wildly down the taxiway. "I'm sorry," she said after recovering her some of her breath.

"Uh huh, I'm sure." It was good to see her laughing again, even if it was at his expense. He didn't mind in the least.

After she had calmed down, she let a few moments of silence pass before saying seriously, "It was good what you did in there, for Ford."

"He deserves it," he said simply.

Another round of silence passed between them, but they were both comfortable just sitting next to each other, knowing the other was there, and looking out into the ocean. It was calming. The rhythm of the waves hitting the pier was so tranquil and comforting, knowing with certainty that in a few seconds another wave would hit. It was the one reliable thing in this galaxy.

"One thousand," Elizabeth said out of the blue.

He cast her a quizzical look and waited for an explanation.

"There are one thousand circles on the ceiling of my room," she continued. "And when you were… _away_, I tried counting them, as I usually do, to calm myself. I couldn't get past 312." She looked at him, gauging his reaction. Elizabeth didn't even know why she had brought it up; suddenly she felt uncomfortable. "You probably think I'm crazy. It's ridiculous, I know."

He remained quiet, appraising her, before shifting his gaze back to the water. He smirked, slightly embarrassed. "There are 113 'branches' on the door to the cell in the Wraith outpost," he conceded quietly.

Suddenly, she didn't feel so childish after all. After giving him a "thanks for understanding" look, they both turned their attention to the picturesque ocean view once more.

Without warning, John spoke. He spoke so quietly Elizabeth wasn't even sure he had said anything. His eyes remained fixed on the sea as the words flowed from his mouth. "I worry about you, too."

Elizabeth studied him. He continued to stare at the water, lost in thought. "I'm sorry?" she questioned.

John looked quickly up at her, almost as if he was surprised she had heard him. Debating with himself, he wondered whether or not he should repeat what he had said to her. "I said I worry about you, too."

It took a few moments for her to register what he had said. And then she remembered: back in the infirmary when he had been in a coma, she had told him she worried about him every single time he stepped through the Gate.

"You heard that?" she asked in disbelief.

He nodded and looked away.

Elizabeth began to feel the heat rise to her cheeks. If he had heard that part, what else had he heard? She had practically poured her heart out to him that day. Would he remember any of it? Opening her mouth so say something - she didn't know what, but _something_ - Elizabeth was cut off.

"Every time _I _step through the Gate, I get worried. It's because I know that if something were to happen to you, I'd be stuck on some other planet and wouldn't be able to do a damn thing about it. I wouldn't be able to protect you…." His voice trailed off.

She was speechless. Never before had he been so open with his feelings. But he seemed so sad, so forlorn at wanting something he knew he could never have.

John couldn't even look at her as he spoke. "I knew that if anything ever happened to you, I'd never be able to live with myself. That's why I did it, why I lied to Hergon and the Klaans. I knew it was the only way to keep you safe. It's because I care about you so goddamn much. And then I kept having these horrible nightmares about them doing awful things to you, about you being fed upon…." John felt it harder to speak with each passing word. "And I couldn't save you. Each time, no matter what I did, I couldn't save you, and at that moment I knew I had to get you out of there.

"After you went home, I kept telling myself that I didn't have any regrets, that it had all worked out for the best and that was that. But then I realized, I _did _have one regret: I would never see you again. That I would never see you smile, see you laugh, see you cry. I didn't know how much I would miss that until you were gone."

_Why did I just say that? _Once again, he found himself wondering why it was so easy to open up to this woman. John knew nothing would ever come of it, _could _never come of it, but he had to tell her anyway. After everything they had been through together, he had to tell her. When he had been here on the balcony alone, just thinking, he had realized what he had almost missed out on, almost lost. Until now, he had flippantly dismissed the events as one of his many brushes with death. How wrong, ignorant, and thoughtless he had been.

He suddenly turned toward her. "Why did you come back for me?" he asked in an almost accusatory tone.

Elizabeth fumbled for the right words. "John… you know we all-"

"What would have happened if something had went wrong? If something had happened to you?"

She stared at him in amazement. All this while she had never thought of it that way. Like everyone else, she had heard him specifically tell her and his team _not _to return for him when she had been released, but of course they couldn't abide by those orders. What, had he _wanted _to die?

Her eyes hardened and she took on a defensive tone. "Why did I come back for you? Because I couldn't let you die for me, that's why."

Her words shocked him and her as well. They hit like a sledgehammer. But as soon as she had said them, she knew the truth: he had been prepared to die for her, and that was something _she _could never allow.

"Do you think you're the only one with feelings?" she continued heatedly. "Everyday you were gone I was a disaster. A complete and utter _disaster. _And not because I had just come back from a near death experience; that was the easy part to deal with. But because you didn't. You weren't there to talk to. You weren't there to make sure I was doing everything correctly. You weren't there to put Bates in his goddamn place all the time, to crack jokes when we all needed it, or to make sure this entire base didn't die from working too hard."

John cast his eyes guiltily to the floor. McKay had told him how Elizabeth had faired while he was still trapped at the outpost and now he felt all the more guilty for making her talk about it. _God, I'm such a bastard._ He was about to apologize when she interrupted.

"Do you know how sick it made me to see you battered and bruised, being fed upon? I tell you, I had _never_ wanted to kill someone in my life until that point, until I fired twenty rounds right into that bastard Wraith's head."

Her words were as cold as ice, so much so that he believed her.

"You were _dying, _John. In the infirmary, none of us knew if you were going to make it." Elizabeth began to choke on her words. "Carson… Carson said even he didn't know. It scared me to _death, _John. What if we never saw you again? What if _I _never saw you again?"

She began to tear up and looked away from him. She couldn't face him right now.

Rubbing a hand over his forehead, John felt a stab of shame. He hadn't meant for it to go so far when he signed on for this expedition. All he had wanted was a chance to escape his old life and start over. He had never asked for such a close group of friends, of family, or such a good boss. He wasn't worthy. He had never expected to grow so close to her, so protective of her, or to feel… whatever it was he was feeling for her.

Noticing her shiver slightly, he took off his dress blue jacket and carefully wrapped it around her shoulders. Instantly, she warmed, but whether from his jacket or his touch she couldn't tell. She couldn't help but smile at the familiar gesture.

Turning her head gently to face him, John reached out to touch her cheek and tenderly wiped away a single tear with his thumb as he had done so many times before.

"Liz…" he began.

She closed her eyes at the sound of her nickname. He shouldn't say that; it was too informal, too close to her heart, and every time he said it, it sent shivers down her spine. They shouldn't even be out here together. It was a mistake.

"Liz, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to sound that way. It took a lot of guts to go back in there - believe me, I know. I was just so worried that something could have happened to you. And you're right; I wasn't there before and I'm sorry for that. But I'm here now and I'm _not _going anywhere. I promise." He respected her all the more for facing her fears, especially when those fears took the form of seven foot tall Wraith and a human leader in need of some serious psychiatric help. What she did back at the outpost for him, saving his life, proved to John she could take care of herself. But that didn't mean he'd ever stop watching out for her. That was something he'd _never_ be able to do, no matter their relationship.

Elizabeth looked into his face and saw nothing but earnest eyes staring back at her. She nodded and gave him a small smile. It hurt though, each knowing where the other was coming from, each knowing the other more than ever, and not being able to act on those feelings.

"And thanks, by the way, for getting me the hell out of there," he added as sort of a footnote, and it seemed to lighten to mood greatly.

They talked for hours upon hours about anything and everything: religion, sports, politics, their pasts…. Once they slipped into a comfortable groove, they weren't able to stop. On a few occasions, John had made her laugh so loudly she swore half the city would wake up. Elizabeth had even asked him his favorite color, movie, and hobby, just as she had promised herself she would. She needed to get to know this man more, and after almost losing him forever she was determined to know every single detail about him.

As a comfortable silence descended upon them, Elizabeth remembered they all had plenty of work to do tomorrow. "We should head in; it's late."

"You mean it's early."

"What?"

"According to my watch, it's almost 04:00 hours - way past my bed time."

She moaned and suddenly felt incredibly tired. Tomorrow morning - _or rather today, _Elizabeth corrected - was _not _something she would be looking forward to. If she was lucky, maybe she could get in three hours of sleep.

"I had a great time," she told him, giving him a shy smile. "Thanks for that, John." _Stop acting like a teenager, stop acting like a teenager_….

"Same here. And you're welcome."

They stood staring at each other, neither one wanting to leave. She smiled up at him with her eyes and John found himself drowning in them. She was suffocating, intoxicating.

"I should probably be heading back…" she tried a second time.

"Yeah, me too."

Their voices were barely above a whisper, their eyes locked on one another. Again, neither moved toward the doorway. Instead, John found himself leaning in slightly toward her.

Elizabeth stood still, anxiously, as he cautiously reached a hand up and tilted her chin upwards. Her heart fluttered and she found it increasingly harder to breathe. His jacket fell off her shoulders to the floor in slow motion and gathered at her feet. Slowly and uncertainly, he brought himself in closer until they were an inch apart.

John paused, hesitated. _What am I doing? _This had all been a mistakeClosing his eyes in sadness, he knew this was the closest they could ever come.

Her brow furrowed in confusion. What was he doing? Why had he stopped?

Delicately turning her head to the side, he placed a soft, lingering kiss her on the cheek. "Good night, Liz," he whispered; tomorrow it would be back to 'Dr. Weir.' He turned and began to walk to the door before he could see the look on her face. He knew it would break his heart in two.

Elizabeth watched him retreat, uncomprehending. What had just happened? Her face was a picture of confusion, disappointment, and hurt. To have been so close to something and have it just slip away… that was a wound she wasn't sure would ever heal. He was still protecting her, still unwilling to risk hurting her, but that was a risk Elizabeth felt he didn't get to take. She had felt something just now: security maybe, certainty… hopePicking up his jacket off the floor, she weighed her options.

"John, wait!" she yelled after him.

He stopped mid-stride as he was nearly two feet from the door. As much as he didn't want to turn and face her, he knew he had to. John watched as she walked up to him, mouth slightly open as if she were about to say something. He wished she wouldn't; it was hard enough already just trying to walk away.

Her pace slowed as she closed the distance between them. As she stood toe-to-toe with John, Elizabeth thought she would have come up with something to say by now, something about how he shouldn't go, or how they should at least give it a shot. She watched his brows arch as he stood there expectantly, waiting. Did she see anticipation on his face? Was he hoping she would say those very things?

Knowing anything she said would be insignificant, Elizabeth suddenly reached up and kissed him on the lips. John was stunned at first, but he didn't resist. Soon he felt himself cupping his hands around her face as he deepened the kiss. Her arms went around his neck; it felt so natural to her, like they had done this a million times before, like they were meant to do this all along.

John pulled her in closer, taking her slightly off guard and off balance, but his arms steadied her. She had always felt safe with him, and now was no exception. Before long, they were locked in a passionate embrace that neither wanted to break from. Soon, though, they were forced to separate for air.

Elizabeth stepped back and caught her breath. At that moment, she knew everything would be alright, that somehow it would all work itself out. She didn't care what the other members of the expedition would think of her, if it undermined her authority, or if people started talking. At this point, she was willing to risk it all.

John was, too. He didn't know what he had been afraid of earlier, but knew that what he had right here in front of him, right at this moment, was more important. This was the second chance he had spent years of his life waiting for, that they had both waited for. _And to think I had almost lost all of this._

"You forgot your jacket," she whispered to him. She offered it to him.

John eyed it with that crooked smile on his face she had come to know so well. In one fluid motion, he stepped toward her, took the jacket, threw it carelessly to the ground, and pulled her in for second, gentler kiss. Running his hands softly through her hair, they both realized that this was what separated them from the Wraith, what would ultimately win out: moments like this. As he brushed his lips tenderly across hers, they knew no one, not even the Wraith, could ever take this away from them.

This was what made life worth living; living for the moment, not knowing what you had until it was gone, and second chances. They each had their second chance at life in each other, and they were not about to throw it away.

This was something they each had, would forever have. Something so special that it made them feel like they were the only two people in the universe. Something that washed away all the evils of the past. Something that they could share together. Something that was so simple, so human, so real, so _right_.

It was something that could never be taken away.

Fin

* * *

Aw, finally they did it! It took them, what, 25 chapter to do so… what took so goddamn long! Lol, I'm talking like I had to control over it whatsoever. Hey, I'm just the author. And yes, I am a sap.

Anywho, I hoped you liked it. Thanks for being so patient; I never expected this monster to be so long, so thanks for stickin' with me. Especially those reviewers who were there from the beginning. You really know how to make a first time author feel welcome. Now is your last chance to review, everyone, so please tell me what you liked and what you didn't like so I know where to go if/when I write my next fic.

I don't have any plans to write one at the moment. There are a few ideas running around my head, just nothing set in stone yet. Maybe I'll do a Rodney fic. J When I get it worked out, I'll be sure to post! I've discovered I actually like writing (oh! Blasphemy!) and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed creating it.


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